Days of Magic, Nights of War
by ladyylazarus
Summary: After four years, Lyra has found a way into Will's Oxford. An old enemy has returned to rebuild what Lyra and Will fought so hard to destroy. Can they stop him before he regains control? The fate of the worlds lies in their hands once more. - On Hiatus while I rewrite it -
1. Remembrance

**Worlds Asunder:**

**A continuation of His Dark Materials**

**Disclaimer: I do not own His Dark Materials nor any of the characters mentioned in Pullman's books that are mentioned here.**

***

Chapter 1: Remembrance

The girl gazed out of the mist covered window, trying to shut out the creak of wheels, the whistling breezes that seemed to be trying to flee from a dreadful fate, but knowing it would come anyway. To her, every sound seemed amplified by a thousand from the weeks of compressed pain and sorrow she had endured. Although she was mad with grief, it never threatened to dampen the fiery personality hidden just behind the wall of sadness. Despair had etched premature lines around her eyes, giving her a tired appearance that was barely hidden behind the dark gold locks that cascaded down around her jawbone.

"Oh, Pan." The pained whisper was heard only by the ball of fur curled in her lap. Her daemon, Pantalaimon, scurried up her arm to nestle near her neck. She sighed, letting out a little hiccup of sadness. But that was all that escaped the barrier within her, except for the single tear that rolled down her cheek onto her pale brown skirt. Of course, the girl tried to keep her grief hidden, and Dame Hannah saw that, and so she said nothing. She'd met the girl years before, but she'd been very different: a young, wild thing that never followed the rules. A few weeks previously, she'd returned to Jordan College from a long journey. Dame Hannah had offered her a place at her boarding school and she had accepted.

A little gasp escaped the girl, which she quickly turned into a cough. Pantalaimon comforted her as best he could, but it was no use. She ached down to her very bones. They both did. She could feel a familiar pressure building inside her chest, it visited her frequently. The figure of Dame Hannah, sitting in front of her, was the only thing holding back the cry of utter helplessness and remorse she would have screamed to the heavens with all the strength she could muster.

Suddenly, the coach lurched sideways. It bumped and rocked, throwing the Lyra from her seat. She had ridden many creatures, including armored bears and mulefa, but nothing had prepared her for this. She scrambled back up only to be thrown once more to the cold, wood floor. There she stayed, huddled under the small window.

"Don't fret now, dear. We'll be arriving shortly." Dame Hannah helped Lyra up and them seated herself firmly on the opposite leather bench.

The pine martin, Pantalaimon, nuzzled Lyra's neck; his wet nose rubbing against her trembling jawbone.

"Oh, Pan." She whispered again as she stroked his red-gold fur. Another tear rolled quietly down her face.

Two days previously, and worlds away, in his Oxford, Will walked down the sidewalk and sat at an empty bus stop. His daemon, Kirjava, jumped to his lap, invisible to curious eyes. He stroked the cat, twining his fingers in her lustrous, dark fur. He had been visiting the Botanic Garden everyday he could manage. Once there, he'd talk to his imaginary Lyra, who was always sitting next to him, listening intently. But today had been special, for Lyra would have been there too, on mid-summer day.

He had no idea how long he'd been there, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that he'd gone, ljust as he had promised Lyra, and she him. The bus came into view from around the corner. He rose to his feet. Kirijava jumped gracefully to the pavement and followed Will, whose fists were clenched, head bowed to hide his tear-streaked face.


	2. Arrival

Chapter 2: Arrival

The carriage jerked to a stop, jolting Lyra from her thoughts. Her hands were placed on either side of her gripping the bench and she could feel the slight vibrations as the coachman jumped from his perch above them and walked around the open the doors. Dame Hannah stepped out and offered a hand to Lyra. She looked at her surroundings. They were on a hillside with a forest nearby and the only building in sight was one sitting atop the hill. It was white-washed and modestly decorated, with columns lining the front step. There was a balcony stretching out above. It was relatively small for a boarding school but it looked comfortable.

Dame Hannah pressed her hand very lightly on Lyra's back. "Come along now; let's go meet the other girls." Lyra hesitated for a fraction of a second. Was she ready for this?

As soon as they opened the door, dozens of girls rushed at them, bouncing up and down and whispering excitedly. One woman stayed behind, waiting quietly.

"Mistress Daniels, get your girl's in order please."

The woman smiled affectionately. "Settle down now girls." She said, with only a hint of sharpness. Silence fell immediately.

Dame Hannah put a hand on Lyra's shoulder and squeezed it gently in encouragement. "Thank you. I am very pleased to say that we have a new student. This is Lyra Belaqua." Startled whispers flowed through the crowd.

Suddenly, one girl said, "Oh, my father told me all about you. You might have met him. He's the chef at Jordan College. Is it really true that you went to Svalbard with a band of Gyptians?"

Lyra craned her neck to see the speaker. She gasped. An almost mirror image of the chef, only female and younger, looked back at her, eyes wide with admiration.

Before Lyra could reply, Dame Hannah said, "I'm sure Lyra would be happy to share her adventures with all of you in due course."

"Oh yes, tell us, tell us, tell us!"

The words sent spasms through the slowly healing wound in Lyra's heart. The eagerness in the girls' voices bore such an eerie resemblance with the children of the World of the Dead, as they pleaded with her. In a rush, the adventure in the World of the Dead came back to her along with memories of Will and how they had set those souls free. Eyes closed, Lyra pushed her way through the throng and ran down a hallway entering the first room that was unlocked. She closed the door and sank to the floor. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she laid her head down and cried. She cried until she thought the whole world must have dried up. And then she sat and breathed deeply trying to regain the fragile composure that had helped her through the past few weeks.

***

Will walked the last remaining steps up to Mary Malone's flat. He and his mother had moved in upon Mary's kind invitation. She had taken care of the legal side of things and had just finished getting an appointment with a mental health specialist for his mother.

No sooner had he touched the doorknob, he heard a whisper. "The boy's back. Get ready Tom."

Instinctively, his hand flew to the place on his hip where the subtle knife would have rested. He felt around desperately for a fleeting moment. Letting his hand fall limp, he readied himself for whatever was beyond the door, and turned the knob.

Darkness enveloped him. Groping around for the light switch, he called, "Dr. Malone, Dr. Malone, are you there?" He found the switch and the lights flickered on. Someone grabbed him from behind. Balling his fists, he threw them blindly over his shoulders. He heard a sharp intake of breath as his fist collided with something hard. Warm liquid gushed over his hand and down his arm. The man let go, clutching his nose, throwing himself off balance. Will looked around calculating escape routes. The room in front of him was barely recognizable. Furniture had been turned over and broken. Pieces of china, glass, and wood littered the floor. Cabinets lay cracked and splintered on a rug that had been torn to shreds. It was then that he noticed Mary Malone, sitting precariously on one of the over turned couches.

Will looked around for any more danger.

"Over here, boy."

Will turned, staring at the wall. A familiar face stared back at him, loathing etched deep into his pale face, his white-blonde hair soaked with sweat. "H-how did you find us?" Will demanded, trembling more from anger than from fear.

"Oh it was easy. Just pulled a few triggers, told a few lies—

"How did you find us?" Will repeated.

"Well, if you must know. Remember your friend, Lyra I think her name was? I spoke to her once, did you know that? During our little chat she let slip that she knew you. After that she ran. I chased her, and almost caught her, but then she disappeared. When I returned, to my great annoyance, Mary here had also gone. I searched most of England for the pair of you. You proved very difficult to find. When I heard that Mary had returned and that you were staying with here, I rushed right over to check up on you and your mother." He put great emphasis on the last word.

"Who told I was here?"

"Why, I think Mary here might know. Oliver Pane, Dr. Oliver Pane."

Mary let out a little gasp. "Ah, does that name sound familiar, Dr. Malone?" A cheerful smirk played across the pale man's face.

She looked at Will, stricken. "I'm so sorry, Will. I really shouldn't have. I'm still working with Oliver, and he's been my friend and colleague for years. One day I had to leave the office early and he asked why. I said I had to buy groceries. Well, I've never really had the need to buy food from the store, I mainly ate out before – Well I had to explain about two other people living with me. I told him not to let it get out but – well…"

"When I returned this neck of the woods, I went right to Mary's old office. Dr. Pane was more than happy to assist me when I showed him my 'police' badge." He addressed Mary. "Once I told him that your friend here, "He jerked his head towards Will, "was wanted for murder, he explained everything. I said thank you, and that he's done a great service to the community as a whole." He said the last bit with mock sincerity. "And here I am."

Will heard a soft click. Pointed right in the middle of his chest was a pistol, held by the pale man.

"You'd best say your good-byes."

Will heard the shot but felt nothing. Confused, he turned and opened his eyes. With a gasp of horror, he saw his mother's rigid body, sprawled on the floor, blood flowing freely from the small puncture in the middle of her chest. "NO!" Will lunged at the pale man.

He pushed Will down with ease. The man laughed cruelly, eyes glinting with satisfaction. "Come on, Tom"

The man Will had punched earlier, got up with some difficulty, both hands still clamped tight around his rapidly swelling nose.

Will crumpled to the floor next to his mother, sobbing uncontrollably. He stroked her pale face, upon which a painful grimace was now permanently set. How much more would he be able to take? First his father, then Lyra, now his own mother.

Mary walked over to him. "It'll be alright." She said gently, trying to comfort, patting his shoulder weakly. "It'll be alright."


	3. A Little Closer

Chapter 3: A Little Closer

In Lyra's world, 2 days before her trip with Dame Hannah, and the same day of Will's mother's death, Lyra herself was sitting on the wooden bench in the Botanic Garden just as Will had in his own world. She sat quietly remembering all the days she had spent with Will, all the times they'd spent together. The story replayed itself in her head like a movie, like that one that she'd seen with Will in the cinema in his world. Every moment was recalled and she watched with interest and regret. If she'd gone into his world, they'd be together now. But she knew better. They couldn't have done that. The fate of the worlds quite literally rested on that decision. And of course, each had to build the republic of heaven in their own world. After all, t_here was no elsewhere_. She sighed.

When her graphic memories came to the point of meeting with the angel Xaphania, Lyra paid closer attention. She remembered every word the angel had said.

Using the faculty of imagination to travel between worlds. That was just making things up, wasn't it? It wasn't real. It couldn't be. She sighed. She didn't like to dwell on the past. On Will. But could there be any truth in the angel's statement? Could she use imagination to travel through the boundary that separated her world and Will's?

She laughed at herself. Her mind was wandering.

Pantalaimon, who had been silent beside her the whole time, put his paws on her forearm. "It's okay to wish for things, even things that can never happen."

"But it hurts, so much." She tried not to, but a few tears leaked through the levy she'd put against them these past weeks.

"I know, I know," Pan said, "and we shouldn't forget and we should try to be happy with what we have. We have to be all those good things the angel told us we should be: patient and kind, willing to learn and willing to teach. We mustn't forget, but we must carry on, with a full heart."

Lyra sighed and stroked her daemons red-brown fur. "Oh, I know, Pan. But we're leaving in a couple of days to go the boarding school with Dame Hannah, and we won't be here for a year, maybe longer. I won't ever be this close to Will for who knows how long. It's something that will burden me for days, maybe weeks. I'll have to see if they let us out for summers." She gave a weak and tired smile. "I wish I could leave something here, in the garden. Something to mark this place."

At that moment, she remembered two things. One was that, in Will's Oxford, on her first trip, she had seen carved on the wall of a building, the initials SP, the very same ones that her friend Simon Parslow had carved into that very same wall in her Oxford.

The second, was that she had seen one of her friends, a kitchen maid's daughter, carve into a tree trunk LK+DM: Lauren Henslowe + Darren Malone. The boy had been a manservant's son, maybe a little older than Lauren and had been her sweetheart. Lauren had carved the initials to signify their affection for each other.

This last memory might have seemed insignificant to Lyra, but it gave her an idea. Her way of marking this spot would be something similar. She looked at Pan and knew at once that he had relived those two memories with her. "Lyra and Will," was all she said.

The pine martin took his claw and gently carved into the wood that made up the back of the bench "Lyra + Will".

Lyra blushed and giggled. It was foolish really, but remembering the initials carved onto the wall in the other Oxford had given her this idea. The benches were in the same place, just like that wall. And if the initials SP had crossed the barrier and could be seen in Will's Oxford, there was no reason why these names should not be seen there as well.

Lyra smiled. It struck her that she might just have outwitted the universe.

***

Will approached the bench. The same old wooden bench where, in front of, he had kissed Lyra good-bye all those weeks ago. He had promised her that he would visit this spot every year. He was almost elated by the fact that he would be a little closer to Lyra today than he had on any other day since he had closed the last window.

He stopped in front of it. He didn't sit. He was mesmerized. No, that wasn't the right word. He was…dumbfounded…stupefied…paralyzed. He stared at one point on the back of the bench.

No one could know except Mary, and she didn't seem the kind who would do this kind of thing. He continued to stare at the one point on the bench that seemed it should not be there. For carved into the wood were the words "Lyra + Will". He didn't blink, he couldn't. _Otherwise it would disappear_, he thought.

How could this be? They were in two different worlds. Nothing got past that barrier. Nothing human anyway. He blinked and looked away, certain this was just a trick of the light or a hallucination of some kind. He looked back at the bench. The words were still there, carved resolutely into the wood.

A few rebellious tears spilled past his defenses, betraying his inner turmoil. If this was someone's idea of a prank, they didn't know the full effect, they couldn't. But someone would pay for this unwanted reminder of what he'd left behind. Once he found out who had done it. _But no one could know._

He didn't know how long he stood there, but eventually he sat. He looked to the spot next to him, where Lyra would be sitting in her world. He closed his eyes and wished with all his might, all his heart, that he could see her again. His eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment he could have sworn the hazy outline of his beloved Lyra was just visible in the half-light of dusk. He sighed. He'd better get home. Mary would probably be wondering what was taking him so long. _Just a few more minutes_, he thought, and smiled. Today, he was just a little closer to Lyra than he would be for another year to come.


	4. Four Years Later

Chapter 4: Four Years Later

"Lyra. Lyra! Wake up! It's half past eight, we'll be late for class!!" The girl still lying in bed grumbled and moved out of reach of whoever was trying to wake her.

"Go away." She mumbled, keeping her eyes firmly shut.

"No! Come on! We have to get a move on if we want to make it to maths on time."

Lyra's eyelids fluttered open at the reminder of where and when she was. Then she bolted upright.

"Oh!" A surprised noise came from the other girl as Lyra bumped into her.

"For heaven's sake!" Lyra jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on her school uniform: A blue knee length skirt and a white blouse. In her haste, she ripped the blouse. Some of the buttons fell to the floor and a tear reached from the navel to the hem of the shirt. "Oh bullocks." She found a second one and put it on. She grabbed her masses of golden locks and pulled them back into a messy bun. Looking at the clock on the wall above the fireplace she swore, grabbing her school bag. She ran to meet her roommate who was half way down the hall. They sprinted down two flights of stair turned right and flew into the maths room just as class was starting.

The professor who taught them higher math and science raised an eyebrow, amused. "Good Morning, girls." She said, with a hint of a smile.

Out of breath and flushed from running the two girls replied, "Good morning Mistress Kent." Finding their usual seat in the back of the room, they emptied their school bag of books and notebooks and sank into their chairs. It was going to be a long day.

***

Will sat quietly at his desk writing the finishing touches on his history essay: the origins and benefits of railroads and canals during the Industrial Revolution. How exciting. Lyra's smiling face appeared in his mind. He wondered if there would be a minute in his life when he did not think of her.

"Will, would you like to share your essay with the class?" His history professor, Mr. Hawkins, was a hook-nosed, beady black eyed, annoyance. At least to Will. He always found a way to single him out for everything. Will began without hesitation or complaint.

When he finished, a cool hand rested itself on his forearm. He looked over to the girl next to him. His best friend, Melanie, eyed him with curious eyes. "Are you okay?" She asked.

He shrugged her hand away. "Yeah, fine."

She had question in her mud brown eyes. But they would have to remain unanswered. She recognized that he wanted to be left alone.

That was thing that he like about Melanie; why they got along so well. She was like him. She needed quiet and space sometimes and didn't like anyone to pry into her personal life. They trusted each other implicitly for each knew the other would die before revealing anyone's secrets. If anyone could ever come close to what Lyra was to him it might have been Melanie.

He went through the rest of the day in a daze. It had been four years since he'd last seen Lyra. And he was ashamed to think that he couldn't even remember her face clearly. She must have changed, as he had, in the last few years, and his memory of her was out of date. How he longed to see her again. If only for a moment. And there were only three more months until midsummer day; the day when he would sit on the bench in the

Botanic Garden and be near to Lyra for a few hours. His heart leaped in his breast at the thought. Only three more months….


	5. Midsummer Day

Chapter 5: Midsummer Day

3 Months Later:

Lyra's heart fluttered nervously in her breast. It was Midsummer Day and she was at Jordan College. As soon as the coach stopped she jumped out of it and ran the few hundred meters to the Botanic Garden, Pantalaimon in her arms. She burst through the wrought iron gate and jogged to the small, secluded corner of the garden where she had visited so ofter during the months before she had left for boarding school. She'd insisted on coming back every summer and Dame Hannah had relented after some wheedling.

Lyra stopped in front of the bench. She simply looked at it. This ordinary wooden bench brought back some many memories of Will and their time together. Her heart, which had been racing from her run, slowed. Her chest began to hurt. It resembled the ache she had felt when she'd been in the World of the Dead, like a part of her was missing.

As her eyes strayed to the spot where she had left a message for Will – hopefully he would have been able to read it – she gasped, and her heart began to throb. Carved under her now worn engraving of 'Lyra + will' were the words 'Love you forever. –W'. She knew at once that the message was meant for her and that Will had written it – in his own world.

Her mind began to race through all the possibilities. _If a note could get through the barrier, then what next? Maybe –_

"No, Lyra." She looked at Pan as he said the words. His face showed that he'd been thinking these thoughts with her, but he was shaking his head. He looked heartbroken "No."

"But –

"No!" Lyra recoiled from the fierceness in his voice. "No." He said more softly. "Remember what the angel said. We have to stay in our own worlds, and be all those good things, and feel all those good emotions and create dust and keep the window open for the ghosts. It's just as hard for Will and Kirjava as for us but we can't be too cross about it. We have to be patient, and kind, and content to live where we _are_. _For us, there is no elsewhere_."

"But –

"No Lyra. You know it just as well as I do. However much it hurts to accept it."

She put up as many barriers against the truth as she could. If only she could see a glimmer of hope ahead. And now that she had she clung to it with all the willpower that she still had. Only to have it erased so soon. No matter how much she denied it, no matter how much she wished for it not to be true, she knew in her heart that Pan was right.

She stood for a few minutes longer, then sat down, her back to the engraved words. She sighed and closed her eyes.

Will stood in front of the bench in the Botanic Garden – incidentally in almost the exact same spot as Lyra stood in her world at the same time. As he stared at the words he had engraved under Lyra's he felt his eyes begin to sting. Carving that message was both the most foolish and the most painful thing he had ever done. He would have been ashamed if someone should have seen. And replying to Lyra's note meant that he believed she had really written it; that she, in her own world had found a way to communicate with him. And that was the last thing he wanted. He wanted to see her again for sure, he wanted that more than anything else, but because that could never happen, it was impossible, he wanted no more reminders.

This revelation came to him in that moment. At first he felt ashamed. It felt like a betrayal: to himself and to Lyra. He knew he would never love anyone like he loved Lyra, so why bother moving on? On the other hand, he knew he had to move on, however much it might hurt. And with the half of him that was unsure, he embraced this feeling of wanting to get on with life. He sat on his side of the bench, and in her Oxford, Lyra did the same.

At the moment that Will had his revelation, Lyra felt a jolt of pain shoot through her chest, as if part of her very essence were being torn away. And it hadn't come from her mind or emotions. She had been feeling nothing but peace and serenity at that moment. She gasped and clutched at her chest trying to keep her heart within her ribs, for it wanted to break free with more force and ferocity than a caged wolf. Pan climbed onto her shoulder and licked her cheek, murmuring words of comfort into her ear. This was as much for him as it was for her, for he too felt the same jolt. They kept their eyes closed against the invasion of hurt and wished desperately for it to end. It stopped eventually and Lyra stood, Pantalaimon still perched on her shoulder, and walked back to the college.


	6. Gala

Chapter 6: Gala

November:

The girl stared out of the window of the coach. But instead of seeing despair in the wind and loneliness in the trees; she saw contentment.

But she was far from content. She was grieving for a loss once again. There was a hole in her heart that Will had left when he'd closed the last window. Although that wound had never really healed, it had been scabbed over by time and experience. But now there was a fresh wound. A few days previously she had received a letter from Jordan College. She had wept bitterly when she'd read it.

The Master of Jordan College had been ill for the past two years with a cancer of the liver. He had had a few surgeries since then but the cancer had spread to other organs. Less than a week before he had died in his sleep. He was found by his manservant. As Lyra remembered the utter frankness of the letter her eyes filled with tears anew. The bluntness with which the author had relayed the news paid no respect to the soul lost. It made her angry and sad. He deserved a proper memorial and a moving speech about what a good kind man he was. And she was determined to do justice to his memory.

"He was a strong and just man, and more of a father to me than anyone could have been. Than my true father." Her eyes glistened and her voice trembled. "I hope that everyone here today will share the memory of him as a great person. One who has helped shape the lives of many and will continue to do so through those who remember him. Thank you."

Her daemon, Pantaliamon, nuzzled her hand. Lyra stepped from behind the podium. She'd asked Dame Hannah to let her speak for the Master's funeral, and she had given respect to his memory. Now all she wanted to do was go lie down on her bed and cry, for the tears burned the back of her throat and thrust desperately against her eyes. But there was still the memorial gala to endure. So she plastered a smile on her face and answered any questions and gave her opinions to any discussion thrown her way. But it was clear to Dame Hannah, if to no one else, that Lyra would rather be anywhere but here.

In her room, her old maid, Mrs. Lonsdale, was helping her dress for the gala. "Suck in." She snapped, as the pulled the laces to the corset. Of course it was not a true corset, those had been out of fashion for nigh over 50 years, but it was similar and served the same basic purpose. Lyra sucked in and rolled her eyes. Heaven forbid she should say anything reassuring or complementing like, "My you've grown into a fine young lady," or "Well now, isn't that a beautiful dress you chose."

The scarlet satin number was slipped over Lyra's head and it slid effortlessly into shape around her bust and hips. "Hair." Mrs. Lonsdale said. Pan stayed in the corner, avoiding all this nonsense. Lyra envied him. She knew he wouldn't say much at the gala. Both of them hated parties.

As Lyra moved forward to sit on the stool provided for her, she caught a glimpse of something in the mirror. She put a delicate hand to her mouth. The maiden in the mirror was not the Lyra Belaqua she had known, but a beautiful, sophisticated, young woman. It was true, she had barely looked in a mirror for at least 3 years and the change was dramatic. Instead of the awkwardness of a growing body, she saw a woman's form, with a rounded bosom and curving hips. The red dress only made to accentuate these aspects. Her long golden hair fell nearly to her elbows and face seem to radiate kindness and passion through high cheekbones and sparkling blue eyes.

"Stop gawking at yerself in the mirror an' come sit down." There was no endearment like 'dear' or 'sweet' to soften the command, but that was just as well. Lyra was used to the systematic ordering of Mrs. Lonsdale.

When I reached the tall oak doors that led to the ballroom, a young man came up beside me and slipped an arm around my waist. "You look beautiful tonight."

I jumped in surprise. "Jesus, you gave me a fright." I looked up at him smiling. "Evening, Simon." His daemon, a vixen, stayed quietly alert by his feet.

His eyes twinkled and he raised an eyebrow. "Gave you a fright? I thought the brave Lyra Silvertongue was above being given a fright."

I swatted him playfully on the shoulder. It was so easy to behave naturally with Simon. He never expected me to be the perfect, prim young lady. It was like he was mixture of Roger and Will. I loved him as a friend but also thought that one day I might even think of him as a lover. I smiled. "You know what I mean."

He held out his arm, and I took it. I felt completely comfortable on his arm, though it was only a friendly gesture. We'd known each other for a few years now. He was the elder brother of one of my friends at St. Sophia's. He came to visit several times a year, and I began to think that it was not just to see his sister. Her friends suspected this, too, and envied me his attention. He was considered the most eligible bachelor. Though with St. Sophia's being an all girls' school, I couldn't imagine any of the girls having met many suitors.

I walked with him into the grand ballroom, troubles forgotten, and barely remembering this was a memorial gala instead of a holiday ball. "Look out, here comes Eustace." Pan muttered from his position around my neck. I turned to look and sure enough, a tall, thin, pale young man with his beetle daemon saw me and made his way through the crowd. Everyone knew that he fancied me, just as everyone knew that I couldn't stand Eustace Monroe. Simon noticed the imminence of Eustace's arrival and so swept me into a waltz.

"Thank you." I breathed. "I don't think I could have stood another conversation with him. He is very tiresome. He can't think anything original to say."

"My pleasure."

We danced through one song and into another. This one was slower. We hadn't spoken very much, but the situation wasn't at all awkward. But then Simon changed the positioning of his hands very slightly. His hand, instead of pressing lightly into mine to lead me, came around my delicate fingers in a soft clasp of hands. And his other, which had been situated at my waist, slipped down to the small of my back. He pulled me closer. This didn't seem unnatural to me, so let him. When our bodies touched, just the slightest pressure of chest to chest, I caught my breath. Gently, hesitantly, I laid my head on his shoulder. His breath stirred my hair, and he sighed. I looked up at his face. It was free from worry, unlined, like the boy he had been. His tawny eyes were warm. "Careful." Pan whispered in my ear. Simon was very close. It would be so easy to reach up to him. His head bent down just the tiniest bit and I raised my lips to meet his.

Eustace's interruption could not have been planned better. He put a hand on Simon's shoulder, pulling him back. "Simon West. Good evening to you." He gave a tight smile.

Simon's eyes became annoyed. "Good evening to you, too, Eustace." His tone was clipped.

Eustace's expression was dark, almost angry. What in the world would he have to be angry with Simon about? I wondered.

"May I have a word?" Eustace whispered.

"You may." Simon said, a bit too loudly. He hadn't let go of me.

Noting this, Eustace jerked his head toward the balcony doors.

Knowing what he meant, and obviously reluctant to leave me, he sighed, and took his hand away from my back. His fingers lingered just a moment too long on mine. I watched him walk away with Eustace, and out of the large glass double doors that led to the balcony. The golden curtains had been pulled to cover the glass panels so I wouldn't be able to see what was going on. With one last look at me, Simon closed the door.

Several minutes passed. And several more. I began to grow bored watching the unmoving golden drapes. Until I heard raised voices coming from behind.

"Offend you? How?" Came Simon's strong voice. A few heads turned.

"By coveting my property!" Eustace's wine sounded even more annoying when it was shouting. Many more heads turned to look disapprovingly in the direction of the balcony.

"Your property? So now she's your property? You think she can just be auctioned off to the highest bidder?"

"I am the most eligible bachelor, and, once my father dies, which may in fact be very soon, I will come into a large inheritance. It is the best match. I had already discussed it with the Master before he died." My stomach dropped. Married? To Eustace Monroe? The idea made me feel sick to my stomach.

"And he agreed?" Skepticism resounded in Simon's voice. It sounded as if he were on the verge of laughing.

"Well, no, not exactly -

"You see? She is not a brood mare to be bought to mate with a champion stallion! And she should not be regarded as such! So, with closing this argument, I respect you for your attempts," Simon emphasized the last word, "and will say good evening to you, sir." By this time the entire ballroom had grown silent, even the band had stopped playing. Every head was trained on the doors to the balcony. Simon barged through these doors and made his way through the crowd. He stopped in front of me. His expression was distracted. "Good evening, Lyra." He said, and brushed past. I watched him go. Then I turned to Eustace, who was walking towards me. He had some nerve!

"Well, Miss Belaqua, I'm sure you overheard that unpleasant shouting match I had with your friend and I cannot mask my intentions any longer."

I gapsed. How could he believe I would be even remotely inclined to listen to him, much less marry him, after that 'unpleasant shouting match'. Pan bristled at my shoulder, glaring at Eustace's beetle daemon.

I couldn't stand it. My hand snaked from my side and slapped him across the cheek. A few women gasped. I turned away from his stunned expression and almost ran into a waiter. "Sorry, Miss." He said. I snatched a glass of champagne from his silver tray and drank in two gulps. I ran past the crystal topped tables and out of the red oak doors. I didn't know where I was headed but I had to get away from all of those people.

Tears streaked down my face. All the emotions I had suppressed for the past few years since I realized I would never see Will again, came out in a hurricane. I could hold it back no longer. I found myself at the iron gates of the Botanic Garden. I pulled at them frantically, but they held fast; locked. I fumbled with my black clutch but my fingers were trembling too much to undo the clasp. I threw the bag against the gates and sank to the ground sobbing.

A figure picked up the clutch and gently laid it beside me. It was Simon. He pulled me into a strong embrace. I clutched his shoulders and wept. I don't know how long we stood there; it may have been minute it may have been hours. But eventually the storm receded. Simon cradled me, murmuring words of comfort into my hair. I removed my head from his shoulder and looked into his eyes. Without hesitation, I reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips. It was a sweet touch, not demanding. And I found I quite enjoyed it. I pulled away from him and picked up my bag. My hands had steadied and I was able to retrieve the key and unlock the gates.

Simon raised an eyebrow at this, for I had not told him about my visits to the Botanic Garden. I smiled hesitantly, and opened the gate. He made as if to follow me but I turned around and shook my head apologetically. "I'm sorry. I must do this alone." He nodded; understanding. He pulled me to him gently and kissed my forehead. We lingered in each other's arms. He smiled. "Goodnight, my love."

She walked alone to the bench in the secluded corner of the Botanic Garden, her daemon silent around her neck. It was dark, and the flowers and trees cast ghostly shadows on the pathway. But even in the darkness she could still see their beauty, and it gave her comfort. She sat and sighed. For no matter how much she loved Simon, she would always belong to Will, and every kiss she shared with Simon would feel like she was betraying his memory. But she would have to live with that.

She loved Simon with all her heart, but she loved and longed for Will with every fiber of her being. This pain and desire so fierce it racked her unrelenting, always there. Desire to see him again, to feel his arms around her, to hear his voice. The slowly healing wound was torn wide open as she relived memories shared with Will. The hole in her heart throbbed and became wider and wider until she was afraid it would envelop her completely. Pan flowed into her lap and looked up at her with pain filled eyes, and she hugged him tight to her chest.

She wished and wished to be with Will again. She wished harder than she had ever wished for anything before. She wished she was in his world. She wished to see him, she wished to hold him, she wished to kiss him. She shut her eyes tight and pictured herself in his world, in his Oxford, in his Botanic Garden. And as she wished for this with all of her soul, body, and ghost, she unconsciously slipped into the frame of mind she had once used to read the alethiometer. It had been used by Will, and Mary, and had been described by the poet Keats. She let her whole being be enveloped by this frame of mind and just as quickly as she had begun again to use negative capability, the world went black, and unconsciousness claimed her.

**--**

**Note: I hope you like this chapter. It was the most fun to write!! The next chapter will be part of Book 2: Reunion. Book 3 will be called Inquisition.**


	7. In Between

Chapter 7: In Between

Her world was a mess of grey and black. Shadows without end. She couldn't see, couldn't feel, couldn't hear, couldn't smell. It was like the fragile shell of her consciousness had collapsed and the debris blocked all her senses. She tried to move her head, her limbs, but nothing worked properly. Everything was wrong. She lay still for hours it seemed: years. But then something appeared in her peripheral vision. She found she couldn't see it if she looked right at it so she kept the figure in the corner of her eye. Then she realized how important this was. She could see something. And it was beautiful. It was made of light and sound and emotion. It came closer and closer until she saw what it was.

_Xaphania!_ She found that her mouth didn't work, and so projected her thoughts through her mind. She hoped the being would be able to hear them.

**Yes, I can hear you child.**

Then the girl realized what must have happened to her in order for all of this to be real. _Am I dead?_ She asked solemnly, dreading the answer she thought she knew would come.

**No. You are very much alive.**

_Where am I?_

**You are in a limbo of sorts; caught between worlds.**

_How do I leave this place?_ For she desperately wanted to leave this haunting, not-quite world.

**You cannot by yourself. It is a cage for all who do not know how to travel through it properly.**

The girl's heart fell and despair and panic crept past any defenses she had put up against them. They were as snakes through water, so slick and dangerous.

**But all is not lost. You can still escape.**

_How?_

**I will help you. I do not have to worry about becoming trapped in this in-between place. I am an angel and therefore am not bound by the same laws of nature that humans and animals are.**

_Can you teach me your way?_

**No, but you can learn it by yourself with time.**

_How much time?_

**Because of your familiarity with the state of mind you need to have to travel like we do, it should not take long.**

_And in the meantime?_

**In the meantime I will help out of limbo.**

_Thank you_. Her heart beat fast and excited. She couldn't hold the jubilation in and the waves of it were felt by the angel. She could see Will again; any time she wished it. A gigantic bubble of happiness rose out of her and into the atmosphere.

**I must warn you. This is not the answer to your wishes of seeing Will again.**

The bubble burst.

**We angels sometimes call it shifting. It is traveling between worlds, but it must not go on. The areas where this is possible are called rifts. It is where two places in similar worlds are close to each other. The barrier between worlds has strengthened as more windows are closed, but rifts appear where the barrier is slightly torn or perforated. We have found these places and are trying to close them.**

_Why? _The girl was desperate.

**For the same reason. Dust can leak out of these rifts; these tears. They must all be closed.**

_But – why? _The girl was grasping at any possible answer to her dilemma.

**I am sorry child.**

_But the angels. They don't have to use these rifts to go between worlds. Why do we?_

**Angels and humans are not the same. If you were to see our true forms we would be more structure than figure. We are a part of everything and everything is a part of us. We can pass between worlds at any point we choose because we consist of what makes the worlds separate.**

_The way you have, can humans learn it?_

**Yes, but it would still not be the answer you seek. No matter how many ways there are to travel between worlds, no one can live healthily in a world they were not born in. And because of the strengthened barrier, passage between worlds will be all but impossible in the years to come.**

_It isn't fair!_

**Nothing in life is ever fair. You of all humans should know that.**

There was such pain and sorrow in the girl's eyes, it hurt the angel to have to give the condemnation. But there was still happiness ahead for her, if only for a short while. The angel could sense it. **But first there is something we must do.**

_We?_

**You, Will, and myself.**

_Will I see Will again?_

**Yes, but only for a short while.**

_Well, that's better than nothing, I guess. Why do you need our help?_

**Because you and Will have experience with similar situations. There were many **questions in the girl's mind. **All your questions will be answered in due course. When you and Will are together I can speak to you both. That is the best way.**

_Okay, I'll help._ But of course the question of helping the angel was not a request.

**I will help you into Will's world. Once there you must find him on your own. But you must hurry. You will not have long until you must return to your own world.**

The girl, no longer a girl but a woman the angel realized, said nothing. All of a sudden a terrible feeling swept over Lyra. It felt as if she were being squeezed through a rubber tube that was too small to accommodate her body. She was squeezed and squeezed until she thought all the bones in her body were broken and the breath left her lungs entirely. When she was on the verge of unconsciousness, it stopped.

She was on a small, grassy expanse, with flowers to left and right. She looked behind her and saw something that made her heart stop. It was the bench. In the secluded corner of the Botanic Garden. But it wasn't her bench. It wasn't in her botanic Garden. This was in another Botanic Garden; another world. His world. She could feel it; sense it. She was no longer in her Oxford, she was in Will's. She was in Will's world.

Her joy and energy was cut short by an overwhelming sense of exhaustion. In Will's world the closest comparison would be to jet lag, but this was far more intense. The last thing she noticed before she sank to the ground and fell asleep was that Pan was not with her. Where was he? But the answer to that question was lost in the labyrinth of grey and black that reclaimed her in the next moments.

**End of Book 1: Worlds Asunder**

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**Note: This was a weird chapter. Feel free to send me a PM with any questions and I will answer as fully as I can without spoiling the rest of the story. There will be a total of 4 'books' in this story. Book 1 was 'Worlds Asunder'. Book two (which will definitely start with the next chapter) will be called 'Reunion'. The third will be called 'Inquisition'. And the fourth will be 'Rebellion'. This is going to be a very long story, and I hope ya'll are looking forward to it.**

**Excerpt from Book 2: Reunion**

**They walked slowly towards each other, as if in a dream. Niether knew what the other would do, but each wanted to find out desperately.**


	8. Journey

**Book 2: Reunion**

Chapter 8: Journey

Lyra did not know how long she'd been walking or how far from the botanic garden she was. She only knew that her feet were sore and her body was weary. And her heart ached. She was able to separate from her daemon for a while but after a time it began to hurt. She had figured out on her own that daemons couldn't travel through the rifts. And now, if she didn't find a way back, she would die. She knew that. And it only made her task of finding Will again all the more urgent.

She knew that the Botanic Garden was near Mary's house, she'd heard Mary say it just before she entered Will's Botanic Garden the first time; when she was about to show Will the bench. She hadn't known which direction to go at first but her heart told her that this was the right path. Though it might only be sheer dumb luck if she was headed in the right direction, she stubbornly pressed on. It was not in her nature to give up and she needed to find out where exactly she was.

Her heart leapt in her breast as she saw the first houses of the suburb. Of course she'd seen houses and shops and roads but she hadn't come across a proper town as of yet. But now energy seized her and she half ran, half walked into the mass of houses and streets.  
Lyra came across a tall, nice looking building on her left. A slender, nice looking woman in her mid-30s was exiting the building. Behind her, masses of school children were rushing into the open air. She decided to approach the woman, who might have been a teacher, and ask where she was.

Already forming a story as to why she didn't know this place, she went up to the woman. "Excuse me, Miss, but could you tell me the name of this town? I'm looking to get to Summertown. I was supposed to meet my parents there." Despite her disheveled appearance – the red dress she had worn to the gala was now dusty and severely wrinkled, and her hair had become a sweaty, dusty mess – she smiled. There was no quiver in her voice, no hesitation in her eyes. She still had her gift of lying. She'd hardly used it these past years, having had no need. But she was glad she still possessed the power.

The boy – a young man really – kept stealing impatient glances at the wall clock at the back of the room."Staring at that clock does not make the hand move any faster, Mr. Parry." His teacher gave him a stern look before turning back to the blackboard. Will did not know how much more of this class her could take before screaming with frustration.

A cool hand rested on his forearm. He looked up. Melanie, sensing his uneasiness, whispered, "Only a few more minutes," smiling slightly. He sighed and waited restlessly for class to end. When it finally did, he gathered his books and hurriedly rushed out the door. Melanie followed and they packed their school bags. "What are we going to do this weekend?" she asked, for she often came over and they went into the city together.  
"Why don't we go to the cinema?" He didn't notice how her eyes lit up at the words.  
"Okay." They walked silently out of the school building. That was one of the many things he liked about Melanie. They often fell into silence but it was never awkward.

He looked at her. She wasn't beautiful, but she wasn't ugly either. She was plain, with dark brown hair and eyes and a slender, willowy frame. Though he still loved Lyra, no matter how he tried to ignore it, he was trying as hard as he could to let go of her. He would never see her again so why bother keeping reminders?

Against his better judgment, Will began to think more about Lyra, remembering moments spent with her. No matter how many doors he shut against it, no matter how many curtains he pulled to shield it, the more he thought of her, the more his heart ached and his eyes stung.

He let his mind wander slowly back to the present and found himself walking down the school's fronts steps with Melanie. He sighed.

Looking around, he saw Mrs. Seymour, the headmistress, a few meters in front of them. He took no notice. It was only as he and Melanie were rounding the corner of the school building to walk through the park to the nearest bus stop, that he heard the voice. _Her _voice.

"Excuse me, Miss, but could you tell me the name of this town? I'm looking to get to Summertown. I was supposed to meet my parents there." Will froze. He couldn't have moved even if he'd tried. All of his limbs were paralyzed.

He heard Mrs. Seymour reply, but couldn't understand the words. He could only hear her voice. He could hear the smile of gratitude in her sweet, soft tones. "Thank you." Surely it couldn't be. He began to turn, telling himself not to get his hopes up, because it was all just a repercussion of remembering too much. It was all wishful thinking.

He turned to the area where the headmistress was standing, but couldn't bring himself to look properly. Melanie's soft, light touch on his arm brought him back to his senses. Without looking at Melanie, he brought his head up abruptly, almost putting it down again for fear of the vision disappearing. But there she was, standing straight, tall, and proud as ever.

She'd grown since their last days together. But then again, so had he. She was a woman now, as he was a man. Her hair had grown almost to her elbows in long golden waves that tumbled around her shoulder. The body that accompanied the blond locks had changed dramatically. She was no longer the awkward adolescent. She held herself with and enhanced form of the grace he remembered. Her long slender body was sheathed in a dirty, wrinkled red satin evening gown. Though despite the ragged appearance of the dress, it clung to her body as if made especially for her. The curve of her hips was now in stark and gorgeous contrast with the slimness of her waist and her breast curved gently outward from her chest. The dress was low-cut and showed a small golden pendant that was the exact color of her hair.

Lyra.

However much Will longed to move forward, he was fixed to the spot. But there was another reason. He hadn't seen her in over four years and had almost, not forgotten, but pushed her to the back of his mind. And now, of all times, she decides to show up on his doorstep and interrupt his life as if they were never apart? He realized that, however much he loved her, she was an unwelcome intrusion into the safe world he'd created since their parting.

Lyra turned, and he could see her face clearly. He saw the mask of assurance and sincerity as she lied to the headmistress. But having studied her expressions in all emotions, he thought he was able to detect a spark of panic and hurt in her eyes. And in a moment all doubts as to whether he was glad to see her were forgotten.

"Oh, I was in the village down the road there. We separated to go to the shops and - "  
Something caught Lyra's eyes from behind the woman she was talking to. A tall boy, a young man really, of about her own age was staring at her, unblinking; pale faced. She inhaled sharply, her heart fluttering nervously and excitedly in her breast. She almost fainted. She couldn't speak. Her whole body became weak and uncertain in recognition.

The boy's messy dark hair fell across his hooded eyes. His left hand was tucked gently in his pocket, out of sight.

Will found his voice. "Lyra?" he whispered. But she was too far away to hear him. He then found his ability to move. He walked slowly towards her.

Lyra forgot the woman in an instant, even when she put a hand on her arm and asked, "What's the matter dear? You look as if you've seen a ghost." But she had eyes only for Will, who was moving slowly towards her. Slowly, painfully, she regained her ability to move her feet and walked sluggishly towards him.

Will dropped his school bag. The boy and girl, the man and woman, walked towards each other, as if in a trance. Neither knew what the other would do, but they desperately wanted to find out. Their gazes were locked on each other and for the first time in a long time, each saw their expression on the others' face.

Melanie was bewildered. Out of nowhere Will had frozen in his tracks and had begun to stare at some girl in a tattered dress about 10 meters away who was chatting up Mrs. Seymour. He was completely oblivious to all else. Dropping his school bag he began to approach her, and she him. This was strange.

He was only a few meters away but she couldn't bring herself to speed up. When they were right in front of each other, they stopped. Will was vaguely aware that a few people had stopped and were the elbowing the people nearest them and pointing.

Will didn't know what to do. He hadn't seen Lyra in years, hadn't thought he ever would again. But there she stood, as pale and disbelieving as he was. They were somewhat strangers.

He reached out a tentative hand to touch her face. He felt her shiver as his fingers brushed her cheekbone. She closed her eyes and leaned her face into his palm, sighing. He spoke first. "This must be a dream." He whispered, his voice on the verge of breaking. She didn't answer at first, for she thought this as well. She looked into his eyes. Shyly, it seemed. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and raised her face to his. Very gently, almost timidly, he kissed her trembling mouth.

It was a soft sweet embrace, unhurried and undemanding. He moved his lips from hers to her forehead, her cheeks, her nose and back to her mouth. He renewed every memory of her, the feel of her body and her warm, honey fragrant hair. She sighed and broke the kiss, laying her head on his chest. He felt her shudder and realized she was crying quietly. He hugged her to him and kissed her hair.

She wept against his shoulder and he cradled her in his arms whispering in her ear, "Hush, love. You're safe. You're with me now."

Several more people had gathered to watch. They were awestruck. They had never before seen so much tenderness and love between two people and it made them wary.

Melanie was at a loss for words. Before she could blink, he'd kissed her. They weren't making out, but it was still just as passionate. All she could do was stare. Along comes a strange girl in a dirty red dress and Will grabs her and kisses her. But then the girl stopped kissing him to lean against him and – of all things – start to cry.

They looked like one figure – two bodies molded together. They looked like they were meant to be in each other's arms. Her head lay on his chest and his arms cradled her small, now fragile looking body against him. Eventually Melanie looked away and, with some effort, commenced to walk home. Alone.

Lyra had no idea how long they stood there. She felt safe and warm in Will's arms. After a while their audience began to disperse, having become bored with the scene.

"This can't be real." He said, and she felt his voice rumble in his chest. "But I feel in my head and my heart that it is. And I want it to be real. But it can't be."

She kissed his shoulder and looked up at his face. It showed hesitation and joy, but also fear…and hurt. He looked away from her and gazed at a point past her head "I'm afraid I'll wake up and it will have all been a dream, and I'll resent it and wish it hadn't happened, and never would, and -  
She put a finger to his lips. He turned away. She put a hand to his cheek and gently pushed it back so she could look him in the eye. "I love you, Will. Whether this is a dream or not, I love you."

His eyes looked troubled, distant. He looked past her and said nothing. It never occurred to her that he might not love her anymore, and he hadn't even considered it till now. No matter how he tried, the question was rooted in his mind, and he couldn't ignore it.

Lyra laid her head back on his shoulder and sighed. He brought his cheek to her hair and kissed the top of her head. They stood like that for a while, content to be in each other's arms for the first time in years. It felt like coming home to Lyra. But Will felt the appearance of Lyra was an undesired encroachment on the protective shell he'd made to hold the memories of her at bay.

He almost felt guilty, like he was taking advantage of her in the situation. But he also felt relieved to see her again, as if, had another day gone by, he may have broken and may not have been able to move on. In fact, he didn't know what to feel. He only knew that Lyra was here, she was real, and she was going to stay here, unless he found a way for her to go back to her own world. And he had absolutely no idea how to do that.

But Lyra did.

**--**

**Note: I liked this chapter, and I tried to make it as believable as possible. The dialogue between Lyra and Will is kind of sappy though. But I couldn't think of anything for them to say that wasn't really clichéd. Oh well. Hope you liked it!!**

**REVIEW!! PLZ .**


	9. Nightmares & Daydreams

Chapter 9: Nightmares & Daydreams

It was Sunday, and Mary was making breakfast. She couldn't be bothered any other day, but she wanted to fill the maternal role at least once a week. So on Sundays, instead of attending church – the irony of that situation would be too much for her and Will to bear – she made a big English breakfast, including, eggs, toast, bacon, and tea. Will looked forward to this with gratitude and excitement. It was a terrific contrast to the usual cereal and milk routine they had every other morning.

But today was special. Lyra was here. They hadn't fully explained how it had happened. But then again, she thought, they probably don't know the full story.

The first thing she had noticed was that Will had brought home a girl, other than Melanie. That never happened. She vaguely recognized the pretty young woman loosely attached to Will's arm. With the way he treated her, and the way she looked at him, it should have been obvious. But it had been over four years and it wasn't until Mary saw Will's face when he looked at her and introduced the new girl, that Mary made the connection.

She paled and inhaled sharply. "Lyra?" She whispered. Then she threw her arms around the dirty, bedraggled figure of the girl she had known once in a different world. Lyra embraced her warmly.

"Oh, it's so wonderful to see you again, Dr. Malone." Sincerity rang in every word. She was overjoyed to be in this world; that was clear. But there was also pain. That's when Mary noticed.

"Where's your daemon? What was his name? Oh, Pantalaimon. Lyra?" Mary was worried. She knew it was impossible for humans to be away from their daemons for too long without consequences. But she also knew that Will and Lyra had the ability to separate from their daemons, as the witches of Lyra's world could. That was how Will could leave Kirjava at home when he went to school. But he always looked tired when he returned to the flat and as soon as Kirjava, in her cat form, jumped into his arms, his disposition was immediately lightened.

Will was worried as well. He had noticed that he hadn't seen Pan with Lyra. She was obviously tired, both mentally and physically from the prolonged separation from her daemon. It was clear she couldn't stay away from her world for long. But neither of them knew exactly how to get back to Lyra's world, and Will wouldn't be able to watch Lyra get sick without feeling guilty. After all, it was because of her need to see him again that she had been able to travel between worlds, even though an angel had forbidden it. And he needed no more confusion in his life, and this would definitely cause more.

Will pulled Lyra closer to him and Mary could see the full trust and respect emanating from Lyra's eyes. It filled hers with tears. She had never known that, and had begun to think she never would. But she was filled with joy at seeing Lyra again and all other emotions were repressed by the volume of this one. So she ushered them inside and made Lyra sit on the couch and got her a clean shirt and a pair of trousers.

Despite the situation, Lyra was as stubborn as ever. "I'm not a man, I'm not wearing trousers!" She was indignant, and nothing Mary could say about modern fashion would sway her. So, Mary pulled out an old, shapeless, brown skirt hat she had never worn and a nice red short-sleeved blouse. Lyra changed and rejoined Mary and Will in the living room.

"So, tell me what happened." Mary said, gently but firmly.

Lyra sighed and opened her mouth. She closed it and tried again. She gave a small smile. "Can't seem to form proper sentences today."

Will squeezed her shoulder encouragingly. "Well, I was at a party, a memorial gala for the Master. He had died of a cancer a few days previously. I gave the eulogy at the funeral and attended the after party as well. It was hard but my friend, Simon West, helped to get through it all. I guess these little details may seem insignificant in the big picture but those were what led up to my trip here." She sighed tiredly.

Will did not miss the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke of this Simon bloke. A small spark of jealousy flared inside him for less than a moment. And then it died out. He relaxed and let Lyra finish her story.

"There was a man, Eustace Monroe, who wanted to marry me. While Simon and I were dancing he took Simon aside and accused him of coveting his property. As if I were piece furniture!" She fumed silently for several seconds. "Simon defended me and Eustace still seemed to think that I would accept his offer. I didn't, of course, and I ran to the Botanic Garden."

Mary caught the way Will's eyes flared at the mention of Lyra and marriage. She also saw the way that Lyra seemed to be avoiding Will's gaze and had removed her arm from his. She inched away slowly.

"Simon followed me there and comforted me." Her half smile was weary. "He kissed me." She looked down as a blush crept up her cheeks. The hurt in Will's eyes was as plain as day.

"But I broke away and went into the Garden alone. I sat on the bench and let it all out. The pain, the suffering, the love, the grief. It all came out in a storm. It was humiliating, but I couldn't stop it!" She addressed Mary now, eyes sparkling. "I wanted to see Will again so badly and that need helped me travel into a limbo of sorts. A half-world. I would have been trapped there, but Xaphania came to me and guided me out of it. She said we had one more task to do. And that she would help us do it."

Will looked puzzled. "But what are we supposed to do?" Lyra turned to face him, still not looking him in the eye.

"Xaphania told me that we had faced a similar situation. I wonder what she meant."

Well, if what you said was true, and she will visit you while you're together, then you should expect an answer soon. But in the meantime, let's have supper." Mary said, and got up to put the kettle on and make some soup.

Mary's mind jolted back to the present as she heard soft footsteps coming down the stairs. It was Will and Lyra, still in pajamas, and looking hungry and troubled.

"Care for some breakfast?" Mary asked.

Will yawned and sat down heavily at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. Lyra sat across from him. "Yes, please." She said, looking everywhere but at Will.

"Will?"

He nodded, eyes troubled.

It was awkward between the two young people. The memory of the intimacy they had shared hung in the air between them, creating a thin sheet of ice that would need to be broken again; as if they were strangers. Because of the years they'd spent apart, they would need to regain trust and familiarity. They were friends, the memory of their past closeness made at least that possible, but to touch the love they'd once had for each other, they would need to explore it all over again. And that would take time.

Lyra and Will both raised their heads and looked into each other's eyes for the first time since they'd met in the school yard. And each knew that the other was willing to take time to regain that love. And each knew that it would make the journey ahead easier for both of them.

The previous night they'd shared a dream. Xaphania had come to them and explained to them what lay ahead. This included knowing how it would most likely end. This filled them both with pain and remorse at what was to come. But what troubled them most was the task they had to complete. It seemed all but impossible.

The first thing Lyra had noticed after falling asleep was that her vision wasn't darkened like it would be in sleep. When she closed her eyes she was in a scenery not unlike the one she had experienced when in limbo. The same feelings occurred as well: helplessness; no senses except for sight and sound. But this time she could see Will in the corner of her eye. He seemed so far away yet close enough to touch.

And she saw something approaching them: a structure of sound, and light, and feeling, something so blatantly beautiful that Lyra had to try to look away.

"Look at me child." The angel said. Only this time, it wasn't Xaphania. It was an angel she didn't recognize.

But Will recognized him. "Balthamos!"

"Hello Will." The angel replied. "I see you are well. But we must move on to more important matters. Concerning your next task. Your first was to build the Republic of Heaven, but to do that there can be no threat against free will."

"What do you mean?" Will asked as Lyra said, "Is there one?"

"Metatron is alive."

**--**

**Note: the next chapter will continue this dream, but after a certain narrative of another main character's story.  
**

**Review!! PLZ!!**


	10. The Truth of Dreams

Chapter 10: The Truth of Dreams

It was dark. But a light was emanating from somewhere. A crumpled figure glowed dimly on a rocky outcrop. It moved slightly but did not attempt to rise. Its soft glow was weak, which reflected the being's strength; of mind and of body.

In Limbo:

Her mind lurched and her heart stopped for a moment. She tried to speak, and found that this time she could. But her body wouldn't obey her.

"I see you have many questions. I will answer them all as best I can. As for the first, you can speak here now because you are not here physically, you are only here mentally. Therefore the only confines are those of movement and other small senses. As for the others you will have to voice them."

"Metatron?" She rasped feeling her stomach lurch at the thought. The angel that her parents had died trying to kill had somehow survived his fall into the abyss created by the knife. She knew what their task was before the angel said it.

"Yes, he is alive…and you must destroy him."

Will spoke. "What makes you think we can do it?"

"Only an angel can enter the Clouded Mountain undetected. But a human with no daemon present in that world.... Angels sense the bond between human and daemon, that is how we are able to detect humans. We are beings of dust and can therefore sense other beings of dust. But is the connection is lost over the barrier between worlds, it becomes all but invisible.

We have reason to believe that Metatron will build a mighty stronghold and recreate the Clouded Mountain as a completely different world. He will tear the fabric of the worlds to create his fortress but he will have to hold it together consciously at every moment. This creation goes against every natural law so that, without his constant vigilance, it will disperse into nothing.

"Xaphania will take you to the fortress where you must destroy Metatron. Xaphania and the remaining rebel angels will hold his forces off, and destroy his regent."

"You say it as though it's simple. How can it be? How can two humans, only recently grown humans, defeat the most powerful angel in all the worlds?" Will asked, incredulous.

"Need I remind you of your advantage? Humans have flesh; we have not. A powerful enough force could make an angel disintegrate. And he is weak. His fall into the abyss will have taken much of his former strength, and the effort he will make in future will make him all but powerless to stop you.

But now he is still trapped within the abyss. He has reached the bottom, but has not found a way to escape."

"You mean there is a bottom to the abyss created by the knife?" Will was interested now.

"When the abyss was closed, it changed form. It is now a large cavern in between worlds. And a direct passage to the world of demons. Once he discovers this, he will meet with the demons and convince them to join his fight."

"There is a world for daemons?" Lyra was confused.

"It is not the usual form of the word _daemon_, it is _demon_, and they are the inhabitants of the underworld, as it is informally called. They are the comrades of Lucifer, the original rebel angel, who was cast from heaven with many angels and demons in the beginning of time. The angels eventually found a way out of the underworld but the demons could not exit that way. They were trapped in the dark world where they live in to this day."

"Would this have been a world that could have been accessed using the knife?"

"No, it resembles the limbo your minds are in now. It is the same: an in between world. It could not have been reached by the knife. If you had tried you would have died."

"Then how are we to accomplish our task? If we can't shift into this worlds of demons, then how are we to get there and convince the demons not to join Metatron?" Lyra had not fully explained the shifting process to Will so most of this question was lost to him.

"You mistake me. Your task is not to get to the demons before Metatron. It is too late to sway to demons to our side; by the time you wake Metatron will have already taken them to his. No, it is to destroy Metatron himself. You must travel into Lyra's world and make your journey to the north. That is where Metatron will recreate the Clouded Mountain. Good luck to you, and travel safely."

There were so many more questions that needed answering. Both of them were still thoroughly mystified. But the angel Balthamos began to fade away.

"Wait!" Will shouted at the rapidly disintegrating shadow. But it was too late. Balthamos was gone.

Lyra and Will woke at the exact same time. "Did you dream?" Lyra asked.

"Yes." He answered.

They realized the magnitude of their task. It was just as important as any others they'd had, even more so. They knew they were being thrown together once again into a fight to free the worlds. It seemed almost unfair, but secretly, each was anticipating the coming journey with excitement and exhilaration.

**--**

**Note: This story is getting a little out of hand and confusing but what the hell!! It's fun to write and I hope ya'll like it!. The next few chapters will not be about Will and Lyra, they will be about Metatron and the pale haired man who killed Will's mum. He plays a big role in this story, for he is not all he seems to be...(cryptic smile).**

**Luv Ya'll**

**-Bells**


	11. Angels & Demons

Chapter 11: Angels & Demons

The angel opened his eyes. His dark, dank surroundings were like nothing he remembered. Where was he?

He tried to remember what had happened to him and how he'd gotten here, but those memories eluded him like whispers on a wind that are just too soft to hear. But he remembered the woman. Oh yes, he remembered the woman: the beautiful woman who had tricked him. Marisa, her name was. A name as beautiful and deceitful as its bearer. There'd been a man as well. Asriel. The woman's lover. They had taken him down into the abyss. Then how was he here? He should still be falling. And he should have died long ago. The abyss was endless. And if this was the abyss, he'd reached the bottom. But that was not possible.

He tried to turn his head. It hurt, very much, pulling at his being. He tried again…and again, but to no avail. The more he tried to move, the more tired and weak he became. He could feel himself; his essence, begin to drift apart. He froze, trying to hold himself together. He would survive this. He would survive all of this. As he had survived for centuries before.

As he calmed, he could feel his particles come together and his body solidify. He attempted to move very slowly. There was less pain but still the shock and moment of panic as his atoms strained and pulled away from one another. He lay still for some moments, and tried once more. He felt his head turn to one side. And he was still as solid as an angel could be. But he felt no joy in this small development. He needed to get away from here, but he was weak; he was scared. And he hated himself for it. He had been the most powerful angel in all the worlds; the regent of Heaven. Now he was no more than a weak and helpless child.

But the sight that he saw in front of him now filled him with cold satisfaction. Splayed over the rocks around him, the angel saw the forms of two humans. Marisa and Asriel. Their bodies were destroyed; their bones in pieces. Marisa's once beautiful face was now mutilated beyond recognition. Asriel's strong body was broken and twisted. The angel smiled.

As time passed he could feel his body strengthen in small amounts. He impatiently awaited a full recovery, and made the mistake of trying to move again. He'd attempted to haul himself into a sitting position, and the pain and panic that filled him as he began to disintegrate nearly overwhelmed him. He brought himself together and remained lying down, where he did not attempt to move.

Shadows began to travel along the walls as a flickering orange glow faintly illuminated the angel's surroundings. With great effort and painstaking slowness, the once great regent turned his head. The shadows grew larger and stranger by the second.

A few of the creatures filed into the dimly lit cavern where the angel lay. Their thoughts were much the same as his. This creature was the strangest thing they had ever seen. They looked at him with confusion. The angel looked at them with revulsion and sick curiosity. These were demons; the angel Lucifer's comrades when he was exiled from heaven. No creature had seen these monsters for millennia, for they were cast into a 'middle world', and in-between place between worlds. In theory, it could never be reached by anyone but those who'd learned its location from God. Only a select few angels held the secret, and it was never to leave their species.

The angel studied the creature's expressions as they changed from curiosity to fascination, and then to anger. A small bubble of fear rose inside him as the creatures bared their yellow teeth and let out furious howls. Without any awareness of his fragile state they lifted him up and loped back to the entrance to the cavern. The angel fought frantically to hold himself together as he was roughly transported through tunnels and caverns and dark passageways.

They reached a large cavern. The moisture sodden walls were lined with failing torches and the floor was covered with a mixture of dirt, grime, and rock formations. The angel was thrown forcefully to the ground and it was all he could do not to drift apart. But it was too much for him. Without any resistance he sank into unconsciousness.

He woke to excruciating pain and a feeling of paralysis in his lower body. As he opened his eyes he saw a horrid face just inches from his own. It was a monster, with scales and skin creating a revolting patchwork on its face. Small nubs of bone protruded from its forehead. A dull pink forked tongue flicked out every few seconds and yellow-green slitted eyes glared down at him. Grayish-black lips curled back around yellow fangs in a menacing snarl. He growled something in a guttural speech that had the quality of rocks scraping together. The angel met the creatures gaze with surprise but without fear. A larger creature lumbered over to where they were and replaced the smaller.

The larger stared down at the angel with merciless eyes. "Why have you come here? Why do you return to our prison? Do you mean to mock us?" The demon's eyes narrowed and its lips pulled back in a threatening grimace. Its voice was deep and harsh.

The angel didn't reply. He stared up at the monster with no fear or submission.

"Answer me!" The demon roared and pulled the angel up so their eyes were level. The angel's body did not falter. This gave him new resolve. He still did not reply to the creature. It let out a roar and threw him back to the ground. It bent down and whispered in the angel's ear, "I could kill you with a single slash of my claw," he lifted up a scaly finger with a long black talon at the tip, "and you dare defy me?"

The angel met the demon's gaze coolly and replied, "I will not answer to such treatment." The demon looked stunned then began to smile. But it was smile filled with mirth. He grabbed the angel by the throat and brought him up against the wall. "You will answer to any treatment I give you, angel." He spat the last word as if it were poison. It tightened its grip around the angel's neck. But the angel was not afraid.

"You will not harm me." He gasped. His voice was hoarse, but confident. He'd made a plan. He could draw these creatures to his cause and make them fight for him when the time came to reclaim his position as regent of Heaven.

The creature snarled. "And why not?"

"Because I can set you free."

"And why would you wish to do that? When it was your kind who sent us here! To rot and die out and be forgotten! You and your God and your Heaven! You have ignored us completely these past millennia and each knew generation of our kind has learned to hate angels with every fiber of their being. They are not taught your languages; they are taught that you are ruthless killers and mercenaries. What makes you think we will accept your conditions? You could be leading us into a trap and once we have served your purpose you will imprison us again! Why should we trust you?"

Spittle gathered at the corner of the demon's mouth and its tongue angrily shot out again and again. But the angel remained calm. That was the key.

"I am not my ancestors, nor am I the angels who sentenced you to exile. I was cast down here by the same group who cast you out." Let it think we have the same enemies. "I opposed them because I saw what they were doing to humans and all creatures alike was abominable. I tried to stop it and had to relinquish my position as Lord Regent. And one day I went too far. They cast me out to live with the demons they'd exiled long ago. They thought I would be devoured out of revenge and rage, but I hoped otherwise. I hoped that with that small similarity, a common adversary, we could defeat them and have vengeance on our captors. I hoped you would join me." As he had been talking the demon had slowly loosened its grip and brought him back to the ground. "And in return I would set you free."

The angel could see the temptation in the demon's green and yellow eyes. He saw the effect his words had, and relished his victory.

"And once you have freed us, and we have done your work, what is our reward? What will we have after?"

"Once I am ruler over all the worlds, I will control all inside. I will grant you your own world, to live and thrive in. You will have contact with other worlds, if you wish it. Or you can isolate yourself from the other worlds. It is your choice. I will grant you that choice as the reward for your services."

The demon smiled his yellow-toothed smile. The angel sensed triumph moments away. "I accept your offer." The demon said. "But on one condition."

"Yes?" The angel's confidence faltered slightly.

No angel will trouble us in this world of ours. You will not ask for our help again. And we will not tolerate intruders in our world. Agreed?"

"Agreed." Metatron smiled.

**--**

**Note: I'm not sure how this chapter will be taken, but i hope people liked it. It took me weeks to figure out what Metatron would do to convince the demons and to plan what happened afterwards. **


	12. Eyes

Chapter 12: Eyes

The man stared out of the closed window in the small room, listening intently to the sounds coming from the headphones around his head. He had no need to look at the monitor. He knew who was speaking and exactly what it meant. He heard every word the girl said. From how she had traveled between worlds without a window to hearing that her daemon had been left behind. Someone else had discovered shifting. Someone other than himself, in this world. He had suspected that others would know but the skill took years to master, and was extremely dangerous. No mere child could gain such familiarity in such a short amount of time. Could she? Apparently so.

He looked back at the monitor of his computer. His views of the flat were limited but enough to know where and when each member was at a given time. He had cameras situated in the boy's room, the spare room – where the girl now slept, the woman's room, the kitchen and the sitting room. He had planted the cameras the day he'd killed the boy's mother. That particular part had not initially been planned but he hadn't planned on the boy interrupting his visit, nor the woman coming out of the shower to look around. He had wanted revenge for the death of his comrade when the boy had first disappeared. That was all. But now he regretted it. It was an unwanted complication. Now his picture was in the paper and he was wanted for murder. But that was almost four years ago.

And the cameras had yielded no interesting information until now, since the girl arrived.

Now he knew what he had to do. He knew that the girl would have to go back to her demon before long, in her world, and he was fairly sure the boy would not let her out of his sight. So he planned to follow them. And to start what had been happening in his world for centuries.

For he was not from Mary's world, or Lyra's. He was from a different world all together, one with daemons, like the girl's world. In his world, he was known as Carl Flatley. His daemon, Samira, a goshawk, had had to remain in his world, when he and his partner had traveled to Mary's world after hearing from a correspondent about the mysterious disappearance of John Parry. They thought that the circumstances of his and his team's disappearance were strange yet somewhat familiar.

In the man's world, for over a decade now, a few well-known scientists, unconnected to the government had gone missing under strange circumstances. Flatley had been assigned to work with a government agent on investigating the disappearances. As it turns out, these scientists had begun to look into a theory stating that there were billions of other worlds adjacent to their own and had begun to investigate. Some had tried shifting…and had died. Others had found windows and gone through. This was dangerous to the work of the government – no one was to know about other worlds except for them – so the scientists had been named heretics and their lives were erased from history.

The government in the man's world had set correspondents in other known worlds, and around the same time as the scientists in his world were discovering these things, so were other worlds. In an attempt to stop this, the government had sent out assassins to the other worlds to watch and eliminate the people who knew, but only if they began to share their knowledge. Flatley had been sent to look into the Parry case, and to watch the family for any signs that they knew what John Parry had found in the north. Flatley had learned that the wife had kept all her husbands letters in a case and had tried to retrieve it. But the boy had stood in the way.

Then the boy had disappeared, along with the green leather writing case. The man attempted to follow and track him down, but failed. Heaven must have been smiling down on him because not too long after his disappearance, a year or two maybe, the boy returned, and went to live with a doctor Malone. Shortly after, the man had paid them a little visit and planted his eyes and ears in the house.

Heaven continued to smile as the girl from another world showed up on his doorstep. He watched the group carefully. It seemed that these three were the only people who knew about the other worlds. So, when he found that the girl would need to travel back to her own world, he decided to follow them, and begin his assignment anew in her world.

The man removed the headphones and looked away from the monitor. It had begun to rain. Fat drops of moisture splashed against the window frame, slithering down, and disintegrating until they reached the bottom, only to be replaced by more and more. The man would follow the children into the other world, and he would begin what had been in his world for centuries. He would rise to power, and he would unstoppable. Like the strains of fluid gliding down the window; never ending, perpetual. The man smiled, his broken reflection in windowpane smiling back. He stood swiftly and ran fingers through his short, pale hair. Taking one last glance at the monitor, he exited the watching room.

**--**

**Note: The next chapters will be only about Will and Lyra, though Metatron and Carl Flatley will definitely play big roles, but the chapters will not focus on them anymore. Will and Lyra will find out what they know about Metatron and Flatley through Xaphania and Balthamos (in dreams), and through other people in Lyra's world.  
**


	13. Return

Chapter 13: Return

"Why must you go so soon? How can they give you these responsibilities again, even after all you two have been through?" Mary Malone was trying desperately to suspend Will and Lyra's journey. In her eyes it seemed too dangerous for them to undertake this task of saving the world once more. But just looking at the two young adults, she could tell her protestations were falling on deaf ears.

"Doctor Malone, you know we have to go." Lyra's eyes were burning. "We can't just sit back and watch as this goes on. It will eventually affect us all. Do you think Metatron will be satisfied once he has control of my world? To him, all worlds are his for the taking! Would you stand by and do nothing?"

Mary looked at Will and at his daemon. His eyes were locked on Lyra and Kirijava's were closed in resignation. She knew that Will and Lyra would have to leave and that she would have to stay behind. But she was ready to make that sacrifice.

When Will turned his head, Mary could see the resolve in his expression. No matter what she said, or did, they would leave. She looked down at the hardwood floor. "No, I wouldn't." She replied.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked up. "Thank you, Mary." Will said. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, and it would only make it harder for me to leave if you tried to stop me." He removed his hand and reached for Lyra's. She hesitated for only a moment.

As they walked toward the door, hands clasped, Lyra turned back, "Farewell Mary, and thank you so much." Letting go of Will's hand, she ran back and hugged Mary fiercely. She knew that this would definitely be the last time she would ever see this woman. When their embrace ended, Mary wiped the few tears from Lyra's face.

She smiled. "Good-bye Lyra; and good luck to you both." Lyra turned and walked out the door, Will at her back with Kirijava in his arms. They didn't turn around again.

***

With every step he took, Will remembered the wrenching pain he'd felt when he'd gone to the World of the Dead: the feeling of his daemon being torn from his heart. As he held Kirijava in his arms he wondered if he would feel that again when he traveled into Lyra's world. He knew he would have to leave his beloved daemon behind, and she knew the same. He could only imagine what torment Lyra's body was in, having Pan on the other side of the barrier.

He looked at her face, her beautiful beloved face, and in her eyes he saw the agony she was in, the suffering she let no one see.

They stopped in front of the all too familiar bench in the Botanic Garden. Releasing his daemon, Will wrapped his arms around Lyra, trying to comfort her. After a moment she pushed him away gently. Sitting down, she looked up at Will, who was scooping up his daemon for a last good-bye. "This is it." She smiled tiredly. "We're back to saving the world again. Who knew we had one last adventure in us?"

Will smiled distractedly, but was focusing on the feel of Kirijava's warm fur against his fingers. He buried his face in her fur and muttered his good-byes. She licked his face gently, "I love you, Will. Come back soon."

A whispered "I love you, too" and he set her down. He joined Lyra on the bench and they clasped hands. "Okay," He said with a sigh. "What must I do?"

"You have to want it, with all you heart and soul. You have to need to be there, where ever you want to go. Don't let any thoughts of where you're leaving interrupt the thoughts of where you're going or you will be torn between the two destinations. Then, even the angels won't be able to help you." Lyra looked warily at him. "You understand?"

Will swallowed heavily. One last glance at his daemon and then, "Yes."

"Ready?" She asked.

"Yes."

Without warning she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him, hugging him with all her might. After a moments hesitation he embraced her back, with as much force. He covered her face with kisses. He could taste her sweet, salty tears. Then he found her mouth. He kissed her fiercely, and realized that he wanted to be with her forever, he needed to be anywhere she was, no matter where that led.

And with that realization came the feeling of being compressed beyond the limits of pain, the feeling of being squeezed through a tunnel that was much too small. He could still feel Lyra in his arms. She was crying and he held her close and wished for the end of this torture. It reminded him too much of the feeling of traveling into the World of the Dead, his daemon being ripped from his heart. A wrenching feeling tore through his body, making him scream, but no sound came. He focused on Lyra, blocking any other thoughts. He focused on the feel of her arms around him, the scent of her hair, the taste of her lips. The pain ebbed slowly, and eventually disappeared, taking his fluttering consciousness with it.

**--**

**NOTE: Hope you liked this chapter. I promise the story is gonna get a bit more fast-paced soon. PLZ REVIEW!!!!!!!!! I need to know how I'm doing. Personally i don't think it's that great and i'd appreciate any tips from anyone who has any advice. Thnx. -Bells**


	14. Strangers

Chapter 14: Strangers

Will's eyelids fluttered open. Where was he? He was lying on his back, staring at a bright sunlit sky through the branches of a few small trees that surrounded them. Hurriedly he closed his eyes against the brilliant light. Taking stock of his surroundings he noticed a slight pressure by his side. Kirijava? His eyes flashed open. Everything came rushing back to him. This weight next to him wasn't his daemon. His daemon was left behind in Will's own world. The thoughts of his beloved companion brought awareness to the slow, dull throbbing in his chest. The feeling brought back flashing memories from the World of the Dead.

Putting aside those grim thoughts he began to take inventory of any injuries. Will moved his legs. Nothing much, a cramped knee but that was only because is was bent a bit awkwardly. He moved his arms. One was fine but as he tried to shift the other it remained stationary. He looked to the side. A young woman was lying against him, curled against him like a cat. He sighed and smiled. Lyra. He moved his hand slightly from where it rested under her neck and ran his fingers through her golden hair. She stirred and slowly began to wake.

She blinked rapidly a few times then sat up abruptly crying, "Pan!" Without even looking at Will she jumped to her feet. He followed suit and caught her arm as she swayed slightly. She held a hand to her head and sat down slowly on the bench. Not letting go of her arm Will sat beside her. She looked up at him uncomprehendingly for a minute. The color rose in her cheeks and she pulled away from him. The bench was small and their shoulders still brushed but she sat rigid.

A knife seemed to tear at the edges of the hole in Will's heart where Kirijava should have been. Lyra had pulled away from him. Lyra had not wanted him to touch her. His mind ran through possibilities as fast as he could shoot them down. But one remained possible. Had her reaction on the school ground been just a reaction to a memory? Had she been acting on simply a memory of the love she had felt so long ago?

Then all of a sudden Lyra gasped and leaped from the bench falling to her knees with arms outspread. A red brown blur rushed at Lyra and into her seeking arms. She hugged the creature fiercely rocking back and forth, tears streaming down her face all the while whispering, "Pan, oh Pan, dear Pan!" They looked like one being, girl and daemon, so tightly were they joined in those moments. Will felt a tug at his chest and an odd loneliness. He watched the reunion in silence.

Pantalaimon in her arms, Lyra turned back to Will. She smiled with pure joy. He couldn't help but smile back but the expression was tired. Her smile faded and she said, "I know it's hard, but it won't be long until you see her again." At first Will didn't know what she was talking about. But he saw Pan nuzzling himself against her breast as she clutched him close and he realized she was talking about his own daemon.

"I know." He nodded. A somewhat awkward silence ensued. Will, desperate to break it asked, "What now?" Lyra looked startled. It was clear she would have just as much have liked to stay and hold Pan a while longer but she saw the sense in his words. Pan licked her face and climbed to his position about her neck. To her it felt like she was whole again, almost.

She smiled at Will and hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand and leading him out of the Botanic Garden. She began talking after they'd been walking in the general direction of Oxford for a few minutes. "Well, everybody is going to wonder who you are and why you haven't got a daemon. But Dame Hannah will know you. She was one of the only ones I've told about the whole thing. Oh Will, there's so many people I want you to meet!" She sounded genuinely happy, as if the imminence of their task wasn't wearing her spirits down as it was his. She kept talking and Will was content just to listen to the sound of her voice. But a part of his mind kept turning back to when she'd pulled away from him, and her moment's hesitation before taking his hand. It seemed that she was talking to him now not only to reassure him, but also to reassure herself.

Lyra's mind was in a tumult. So many different feelings were chasing themselves around her thoughts like leaves on an autumn wind. Anger, sorrow, regret, awkwardness, love, hate, rejection. And she couldn't even say which was which. She babbled senselessly to the young man whose hand she so tightly clutched as if to show herself that he was here, he was real. She grasped his hand partly because she felt that's what she should do; after all they'd been through, after all they'd seen. She remembered their experiences together but she didn't feel the closeness she had once felt with him. And she mourned the loss.

Jordan College truly was a magnificent sight, rising above the surrounding building in a graceful mass of gray stone and red brick. Will marveled at the familiarity of the scene. It looked like his Oxford might have only about a century before, but with subtle and obvious differences. Where the large new C&A store had been built stood a beautiful old church and where the cinema stood in his world a theater stood here. For the first time he understood what Lyra must have felt being in his Oxford.

Lyra felt a mixture of pride and relief as she walked toward the door to the South wing of the College. She turned to Will who was standing looking at the grand facade of her beloved home. Smiling, she tugged at his hand and he switched his attention to her. Her smile faltered under his gaze. His dark eyes were as she remembered: intense and brooding. Feeling a bit weak she looked away abruptly.

Lyra was hoping to reach Dame Hannah's study without anyone else seeing Will, but at that moment the door burst open and a large figure burst out shouting, "Here! She's here! I've found her!"

Lyra stopped abruptly. Mrs. Lonsdale bustled towards her wagging a finger, a dreadful expression on her face. "You naughty girl, where've you been! We've been worried sick about you and Mr. West 'bout pulled his hair out wonderin' where you was!" Will watched, slightly amused, as Lyra was hardly a little girl any more. But Lyra hung her head in faux shame, every inch the chided child. But in the slump of her shoulders Will saw that she was genuinely sorry for making them worry.

Several more people came out to scold Lyra gently, but she paid them little attention. Will was very much aware that he was barely hidden behind Lyra, and he was receiving curious looks from the small crowd. He pictured what he and Lyra must look like to them. A bedraggled looking pair in dusty clothes, and the young man without a daemon. Knowing that he was probably not helping Lyra's reception, he began his much practiced routine of making himself unnoticed. He stared at the ground and hunched his shoulders a bit, staying silent, until the questioning eyes had looked away and their owners lost interest.

This seemed to be working until a plump, middle aged woman made her way towards them and wrapped Lyra in a tight embrace. She had slightly greying hair pulled in a knot high on her head. The set of her jaw and the look in her eyes when she finally ended the embrace reminded Will so much of Lyra herself, that he could have mistaken the pair for mother and daughter, had he not known better.

Dame Hannah began asking Lyra questions, questions she'd rather not answer in the company of all these people. She wanted to get inside where she could talk to her alone and explain everything that had happened in the last couple of days. Well, perhaps not everything. She looked nervously back at Will. Dame Hannah followed suit and said, much to Lyra's dismay, "And who is this young man?"

Immediately Will became the center of scrutiny. Well, there was no use trying to remain inconspicuous anymore, he thought. He stood straighter and walked up to stand beside Lyra. Trying to look somewhat authoritative he let go of Lyra's hand and held it out - leaving his left loosely tucked in his jacket pocket. The woman shook it silently. "William Parry." Her eyes widened and Lyra's breath caught. "I was a friend of Lyra's a few years back." Will concluded wryly.

The woman collected herself. "Dame Hannah Relf. Very pleased to meet you." Her voice was a bit breathy. She looked at Lyra for confirmation. When she nodded, Dame Hannah addressed the woman who had first appeared. "Thank you Mrs. Lonsdale, for finding Lyra.

Mrs. Lonsdale looked proud, "Well, 'twas nothin' but my duty as 'er maid. But yer welcome all the same." She turned and began urging the other servants back inside.

Lyra hesitated once more before reclaiming Will's hand, and Dame Hannah quickly ushered them into her private study.

**--**

**NOTE: I know, I know, this story is dragging on and on..."When is the action gonna start??" (Question courtesy of my friend and sort of editor (LOL) Katie) Action is coming up soon, I promise. The next two chapters or so will be setting up for the later conflict and Lyra and Will getting ready to leave on their big adventure, yada yada :P.**

**So in the meantime.......REVIEW!! XD and be brutal (but constructive), i need feedback!! .**

**-Bells**


	15. Friends

Chapter 15: Friends

A knock sounded on Will's door. He looked away from the window stared, startled, at the door. He sat up, having been lazily stretched on the bed, and answered, "Come in."

His voice was weary. After he and Lyra had been directed into Dame Hannah's study they had been interrogated about everything that had happened from the time Lyra had disappeared to When Mrs. Lonsdale had found them. Afterwards, they had been directed to the kitchen for a small meal and then to their separate rooms. And with a single glance, without a word, he and Lyra parted company for the night.

Lyra. The name struck fear and love into his heart. She had seemed so distant. The way she had clung to his hand after they had returned had begun to reassure him, but she remained silent in his company ever since they'd arrived at Jordan.

So it was Lyra whom Will least expected to see.

Walking in silently, she closed the door behind her, leaning on it as it shut. She wore a loose-fitting night-dress that reached down to her calf and left her arms bare. Pantalaimon crouched on her shoulder with narrowed eyes.

She looked up at him and he saw guilt written on her face. He returned the glance and she saw the sadness and unintended reproach. And under the heavy burden of his gaze she slid to the floor, clutching Pan to her breast.

Surprised and a little confused, Will slowly got off the bed and walked over to her. He knelt beside her and tried to put an arm around her. Remembering her reaction in the Botanic Garden, he rethought this and contented himself with laying a hand on her shoulder.

Lyra felt the soft sobs rack her tired frame like tiny rolls of thunder in her chest. Uncertainty and doubt had seeped into the place where her love for Will had been. She had even begun to doubt that love itself. Had she ever truly loved him? If she had, wouldn't she still? Did she? Or had that been put aside along with the rest of her memories of that time?

The feel of his warm hand against her shoulder might not have caused any change in her quiet weeping. But, without knowing, Will had placed his left hand on her shoulder, and the sense of broken emptiness left by the two lost fingers broke her. She took her arms from her knees and through them around Will. She clung to his shoulders, digging her nails into his back, sobbing into his shoulder. He glanced at her daemon and was taken aback at the look Pantalaimon gave him. A look of anger, betrayal, fear.

Lyra shook her head this way and that trying and failing to make sense of her tumultuous emotions. All Will could do was hold her and wait for the storm to pass.

He wrapped his strong arms around her and she cried even harder. He mumbled caresses into her hair. He stroked her back and waited for her to calm. When her body gave a last little shudder she let go of him. He kept an arm around her and she did not object.

Knowing better than to say anything, Will waited for Lyra's explanation. The room was completely silent, save for the labored sound of her breathing.

Eventually she started talking. She mumbled incoherently for a while. It might have been, "I don't know, I don't know…" but it was too quiet to hear clearly. Then, "It's been so long. So long…4 years, 6 months, 3days. I had almost forgotten what you looked like." She ran fingers along his jaw line. Will saw with amusement that the nails were still ragged from being bitten. "You've changed so much," She continued, whispering, "I could easily tell myself that my memory was a dream…."

Panic seared through Will's mind. But Lyra smiled wearily. "But that's not possible. I could never forget…" She sounded wry, regretful almost. But hadn't that been how he'd felt, seeing her after so long, standing in the yard of his school.

"4 years, 6 months, 3 days…and I don't know what to do now. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know if I should just let it go, or let those memories eat at me for the rest of my life."

Will began to shake his head. He had let those memories invade his every thought and it had gotten him nowhere. She looked at him, frightened. "I don't know why I came back to you, why I tried to find you. I don't even know if I love you anymore!" She whispered the last panicked words into his shoulder. The words he had dreaded, but expected. He let out a breath. She shook her head weakly against his shoulder murmuring, "I don't know, I don't know…"

They remained thus for some time. Eventually Lyra sighed and leaned heavily towards him. Will looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, her body lax, looking peaceful and unburdened by the tumult of minutes before. Instinctively, Will gently picked her up and laid her on the bed, pulling the quilt up over her sleeping form.

Pulling an armchair from the corner of the room he set it as close to the bed as possible. Keeping hold of her hand with his left he stroked her hair and smoothed it away from her face. Slowly, Will bent down and pressed his lips gently to her forehead. At this she opened her eyes and stared half-comprehending into Will's face. She smiled. "Let's start over." Her eyelids fluttered shut again. "Hello, I'm Lyra."

"And I'm, Will." His words washed over her like warm water; relaxing.

When a servant came the next morning to wake the guest, he found Lyra in the bed lightly clasping the hand of the boy who sat slumped, asleep, in an armchair.

**--**

**NOTE: AAAHHH more filler stuff...action coming soon i swear....sort of. So...REVIEW!!! lol XD I need constructive criticism or i'm never going to get better at writing which means if you don't like my style of writing you're never gonna like it because it's never gonna change because no one is telling me if my writing sucks or not!!! :D lol, well except for a few people, and i sincerely thank them: Rulila, Pelloneus - AC, Emily-in-the-glass...thanks guys :D.**

**-Bells**


	16. Complications

**Book 3: Inquisition**

Chapter 16: Complications

She looked up abruptly, frustrated. "It doesn't make any sense!" She cried, thrusting the golden instrument back into its velvet bag.

"What doesn't?" Will asked gently. He handed Lyra a glass of water. "Here. Dame Hannah told me to bring some up to you." She took it gratefully. "Now," Will said sitting down beside her on the chaise long, "what doesn't make sense?"

Lyra's expression grew annoyed, her bottom lip moving out a bit in a pout. Will almost laughed outright; she looked so much like she had when she was younger. "The Alethiometer!" she cried, exasperated. "I asked what we should do and it said go north; just like Xaphania said. But then it said something about the Magisterium and it pointed to the ant for 'building' or 'working' I think. But the Magisterium is already built so I don't really know what it's saying!" The breath she'd held for the entirety of that speech left her in a whoosh. Will remained calm, knowing from previous experience that if he stayed quiet and listened coolly she would eventually settle down. Sure enough, after a few minutes of restless frustration, Lyra's shoulders relaxed and her face regained its normal composure. Will looked at her expectantly.

She sighed. "Let's head to the Fens then." She said with a hint of excitement in her voice, leaving Will wondering.

---

"Lyra? Is that you, girl?" Lyra beamed at the woman by the market stand. She stood up, wiped her hands on her skirt, and rubbed her eyes. Then she grabbed Lyra in a huge hug rocking them back and forth. Lyra returned the embrace with equal fervor. "Well, you've grown a bit since I last saw ye." Ma Costa let go of Lyra and held her at arms length. "Ye're a woman now." She said with a twinkle in her eye.

It was then she noticed Will, who had stepped back a few paces. He stood straight, and held out his right hand, not entirely sure how he was to be received. Ma Costa took a few steps toward him, eyes narrowed, as if she were trying hard to think of something. "And this is Will, if I'm not mistaken." The she smiled and grabbed Will's hand in a hearty shake. "I hardly recognized you, my boy! You've grown." She let go slowly and her expression changed for an instant. She looked confused. Then the instant was gone and she smiled again. Looking back at Lyra she said, "Well, what brings you down to the Fens? You haven't been down to visit us in quite some time. What's the occasion?" She was still smiling.

Lyra felt her heart drop a bit. She hadn't been down to visit her Gyptian friends for almost three years now. Then, out of the blue, she'd come down to ask them a favor. One that wouldn't be entirely simple for them to comply with. She felt very selfish.

At the change in Lyra's expression, Ma Costa's happy air immediately changed. Will came to stand beside Lyra, taking her hand. She didn't pull away. "What's the matter?" Ma Costa asked.

Lyra opened her mouth, closed it. She searched for a way to explain what was happening. "Well, you see –

"We've got something we have to do." Will cut her off. She looked at him, surprised. "And we have to go to the north to do it." He finished. Lyra hadn't been sure if she was supposed to tell people exactly what they were planning to do. But she didn't want to lie to Ma Costa. Will had simply slipped around the important bit.

Ma Costa heard the seriousness in Will's voice and knew that this task was something very important. She wanted to ask what it was they had to do, but the boy's fierce eyes seemed to hold no desire to explain. So she looked at Lyra for confirmation. Lyra nodded gently.

She hoped Ma Costa knew what they were asking of her and her family. Through the excitement she felt for the oncoming journey, Lyra feared for her friends. If she and Will should fail –

"No." said Pan, who had been curled around her neck. "We mustn't think like that." There was a hint of the fear Lyra was feeling in his small whisper. She placed a hand on his head in comfort; more for herself than for him.

"Well," Ma Costa paused. Then, with sudden conviction, "Well then, we'll leave in the mornin'."

---

That evening, after Lyra and Will had met with and discussed details of their journey with the Costa family, they told Dame Hannah of their plan to leave the next morning. At first she seemed taken aback. But soon she saw that nothing she said would make them change their mind. "Well I see I can do nothing about it." She sighed and embraced Lyra, then shook Will's hand. "I'll send Mrs. Lonsdale help you get your things ready, Lyra. And one of the man servants will help you Will." She sat, rubbing her temples.

Will heard a knock on his door. Annoyance flashed through him. He wanted to sleep. It might be the last fitful night's sleep he would have in a while. But he knew he was being childish so he got up stiffly and opened the door. It was Lyra. He drew in a breath, surprised. She looked embarrassed. "I couldn't sleep." She said. "My room felt too….empty." Will sighed. _I'll enjoy the company_, he thought. He opened the door more and let her in. She walked passed him hesitantly. She wore her cream-colored night gown and the lamp from his bedside table shone through. The figure beneath showed in dark contrast against the light fabric. Will felt a pang in his chest and stomach.

Following her he sat on the bed. She took the chair. She sighed and sank farther into the cushions. "I'm thinking about tomorrow." She said after a while. "I mean, it can't be as easy as just going north and finding this fortress. There's got to be a catch." She closed her eyes. "It can't be that simple."

She was drifting, Will knew, so he got up and threw the comforter over her. "Of course it can." He said as she fell asleep. He bent kissed her forehead. Minutes later he followed her into sleep.

As Lyra eyes closed she felt a familiar sensation. Her eyes were closed but it wasn't dark. It was a strange grey-white. A light shone at the edge of her vision. She couldn't see her body but she knew it was there. Just like she knew there was another mind present beside her. Will, she realized.

The angel came closer to them and she recognized it as Xaphania. Her mind whirled at the possibilities of why she was visiting them. Had she realized that she was sending them on a suicide mission and saw fit to warn them?

**Nothing so dramatic, child. **Xaphania said, a smile in her voice. Lyra felt Will's confusion. The smile faded. **But that does not mean it is unimportant or without danger.**

_What's happened?_ Will asked.

**Nothing yet. But something is in the making.  
**Lyra remembered something. _Does it have to do with the Magisterium?_

**Yes.**

It hit Lyra then. _The Magisterium is being _re_built!_

**Yes. After the previous leader died the Magisterium crumbled. But now there is a new leader. A man from another world. ** Lyra sucked in a breath. Xaphania continued.** For all his knowledge he is very dangerous. He is rebuilding the Magisterium in the image of the Church of his world: a corrupt, bloodthirsty establishment bent on removing all who oppose them, and preach any form of resistance as mortal sin.**

_Why? _Lyra asked, though it was a pointless question. This 'new' establishment seemed all to similar to what the Magisterium had been before. It wouldn't be hard for them to become the same again.

**Not the same. Much more dangerous. The first step has already been made. They are creating a new subdivision. It will be similar to the General Oblation Board. Children began disappearing when it was created. People will begin to disappear again. **

_What can we do? _Will asked. _I take it this is why you've visited us._

**You are right. There is a camp being constructed in the north of this world. It is where the Bolvangar camp was built before you**, she looked at Lyra, **helped to destroy it. You must do the same now. **

_Destroy it?_

**Yes. You must gather a small force to try to liberate the people who are being kept there. **

_Why are they being kept there? _

**They are what the new Magisterium considers enemies of state. 'Heretics' in simple terms. They are the only ones who have made a point to oppose the Church. And they are being punished for it. **

_It's like a concentration camp, isn't it? _Will asked. He had learned about camps similar to the ones Xaphania was describing, in school.

**Yes, very similar.**

_What's a concentration camp? _Just the sound of it made Lyra flinch.

_There was a war in my world. One of the leaders of a country created these camps where people of certain religions or just people he didn't like were sent to work and eventually be killed. _Will answered, then turned to address Xaphania. _That's what they're doing, isn't it? The Magisterium?_

**Yes. It is what has been taking place in this man's world for many years. And it has begun in yours. **She seemed sad as she addressed Lyra. **Metatron has made a pact with this man. He will have forces defending the camp. As you travel north you must gather an army to release these prisoners. No one else will dare defy the Church. **She began to fade. **I am afraid this is the last time I will be able to contact you in your dreams. **She was barely visible now. Lyra and Will had so many questions. **I know you do and I would that I had time to answer them. Goodbye, children, and good luck. **And she was gone.

The children, at least in the eyes of angels, woke at the same moment, with the same thought: _Where to begin?_

---

The next morning, Will and Lyra met with Ma Costa at the docks an hour ahead of schedule. Ma Costa smiled and embraced Lyra. She took Will's hand in a rough shake but sobered once she saw Lyra's pained expression. "What's happened?" She asked.

Lyra spoke abruptly, "Have people gone missing in the last few days?" They had asked the same question of Dame Hannah as they said their good-byes earlier. She had replied that two scholars from Exeter had disappeared but this wasn't overly unusual, if a bit worrying.

Now Ma Costa replied, "A boy from the Makarios clan went missing a couple days ago. We're worried of course but he's grown. He can take of himself. If he's gone past today we'll go looking. Why?"

Lyra started to fidget restlessly at Will's side as he explained about the camp. Ma Costa's eyes widened. She turned to Billy, who had come to stand beside his mother. "We leave in an hour. Tell the other clans we've been summoned by John Faa."

---

As the boy and girl climbed onto the ship, the man managed to slip into the cargo bay unnoticed. He would wait until the opportune moment. Not till then would he strike.

**--**

**NOTE: So…how'd you like it? Review and tell me!! ^.^ I tried to make up for the time ya'll waited with a long chapter (4 ½ pages! WOOT). I didn't really like this chapter very much, it seemed I was trying to get the action moving and shoved too much into one chapter. But it would go even slower if I dragged it out over a few chapters…well, feedback from my awesome readers is always welcome!! **

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Bells**

**PS. I'm just gonna stop saying 'watch for the next chapter soon' because I suck at updating and every time I say that I don't update for months...urgh. So I'll just say that I'm at the beach and have lots of time to write and I've got some ideas so the chapters will be up when I put them up . lol**

**PPS. Ma Costa is confused when she shakes Will's hand because it occurs to her that he's just come from a different world and she wonders how he got to hers.**


	17. Rebuilt

Chapter 17: Rebuilt

A few days previously:

He paced; back and forth inside his marble chamber. He thought. About his allies: there were few but the number was growing. As weak as his physical being was, memories of him and his power scared most into submission. His enemies: the number started out small but as more people learned that he had returned that number was growing as well.

And one man who was neither; the man with the pale hair. The man with whom he had made a pact: to destroy the girl; the daughter of the wretched woman Coulter. She was the heart of all his troubles, the 'bringer of sin' as the man called her. Metatron's enemies flocked to her like bees to honey. But he wanted her gone. He wanted her dead. He wanted her removed from the worlds altogether so he could complete his vision. An Inquisition that stretched through all the worlds, enveloping them in his will. He wanted that power.

He sat on his granite throne, relishing in the anticipation of his vision fulfilled. And angel appeared before him, taking his mind away from his thoughts.

The angel knelt before Metatron. "You sent for me, Lord Regent."

"Yes. I need information concerning a human. I have made a pact with this man, and I would like you to disguise yourself and relay information to me." Metatron looked away: a clear dismissal. Almost to himself he added, "I want to know more about this Carl Flatley."

---

He sat at is desk working slowly through a stack of permits and other papers. He smiled slightly; such useless tasks. His vision for this establishment exceeded paperwork and offices. He had a grander vision. One similar to his world. Where everyone was saved from sin and those who weren't were taken care of accordingly. It was a fool-proof system.

But he had two obstacles in this world. First, were the boy and girl who had traveled between worlds. He knew from some of the previous department heads that the girl had been an enemy of the Magisterium; before it fell apart. She'd been seen as the next 'Eve'; the bringer of sin. They'd tried to kill her; to destroy her and her counterpart. But they had failed; because they couldn't see her potential. He thought differently. On the right side she could be the greatest ally. But then again, there was small chance she would come to his side. But there were always ways.

The second was the angel. There were no Angels in his world; at least none that could appear to humans. This angel, Metatron, was the Regent of Heaven and was the closest thing to God in this world. He'd created a fortress in the north and had approached Flatley with a proposition. They were working towards the same goal: a worldwide Inquisition that would root out the heart of sin. Flatley thought that this 'heart' lay in the girl, Lyra. And he wanted to bend her; to mold her potential to his will. Or to render her incapable to interfering with his plans. Metatron simply wanted to be rid of her, for spite of the humiliation her mother had caused him. But also because she was his only true threat. So, Centralization Camp A was built in the far north: the first of many camps that would hopefully arise. Its main objective was to punish those who thought they could resist the Church. But also it would eventually draw out the girl and her companion.

But if he should fail in capturing the girl…

A knock on his door shook him from his thoughts. It was Father O'Shaye, newly appointed to the Division. He was a strong man; tall and broad shouldered with dark features. But in the pale light of the room he looked thin and wan.

"You called for me, sir?"

The man with the pale hair smiled warmly. O'Shaye was a mouse caught in a snake's gaze. "Yes. Sit down."

The priest sat slowly, languidly, never glancing away from the man behind the desk. Flatley prided himself on how quickly he had taken over this organization. It had been so aimless and weak that in a matter of days he had brought himself to the top.

And now he wanted to test his power. Though he knew the task he was about to give this man was rather superfluous, it was always worth a try. "I have something I need you to do for me." He waited for a response but only received an indifferent expression. "I need someone out of my way, and I need you to get rid of them for me. Can you do that?" The priest nodded once. Flatley handed him an envelope. It contained information on the girl and the boy as well as their whereabouts as of that morning.

The priest took the envelope and stood. The pale-haired man shook the priest's hand and smiled, showing teeth. "Welcome to the Inquisitorial Sector."

--

**NOTE: This was difficult to write because I don't really know how to portray Flatley or Metatron. In my mind they're very complex characters not just evil people. But I really can't seem to show that AT ALL. GRRR.**

**Well plz review anyway…..**


	18. The Beginning

Chapter 18: The Beginning

The Costa's' boat wound its way through the labyrinth of small, deep canals that led to the current place of meeting for the Gyptians. John Faa and Farder Coram stood on the large outcrop which overlooked the wide harbor. Gyptian families from all over Southern England were gathering their boats in lines in front of where they stood. Tying their boats together they awaited orders from their leader.

Though John Faa stood above looking every the prepared leader, he really knew very little about the situation. The only information that he had received had been a messenger hawk from The Costa clan saying the Lyra Belacqua needed the Gyptians' help with something she and the boy Will had to do; something that would affect them all in the long run. He had called all the families under his command together for this conference, and was hoping to learn more when the Costas arrived.

As the first boats were arriving, he spotted three people making their way through the lines of boats. He recognized Ma Costa and Lyra, though she had grown into quite the beautiful young woman and was no longer the over-burdened child she had been when last he'd seen her. But it took him longer to recognize the man who held her hand so tightly. Then he remembered the boy who had been with Lyra towards the end of her journey into other worlds; the dark, brooding serious boy who had seemed a man even at that age. He had changed physically into the man he had been for years in bearing.

As they climbed up to the outcrop where he stood he took in their solemn expressions and wondered what exactly they had come to tell him.

Will remembered the man who had taken them from the mulefa's world to Lyra's. He seemed older now, though no less regal. And Farder Coram next to him was almost the same. "Welcome, Lyra." He embraced her warmly. Then he faced Will. Will looked at him evenly waiting for him to make the first gesture. The older man stuck out his right hand, and the younger took it in a strong shake, smiling crookedly. "It's good see you, too."

A seriousness came over him then. "Now, what's this all about? The only reason I agreed to call this conference was because you", he looked at Lyra, "said it would affect us all at some point. And with all you've done and been through I didn't think you'd be one to overestimate." He waited for an explanation.

"Well," Lyra began. Will began to cut her off but she stopped him, knowing he would simply give a vague idea. "No," she told him. "He deserves the whole truth." Will nodded and Lyra turned back to the Gyptian King. "The Magisterium has been rebuilt."

---

John Faa listened. He listened with controlled indifference until Lyra mentioned the work camp being set up in the north. His apathy then turned into disgust. "So instead of being satisfied with stealing our children, they're going to steal their mothers and fathers, too." His hatred of the Magisterium grew with every word Lyra spoke.

Lyra watched John Faa's face warily as she finished her story. His eyes crackled and his jaw clenched. He turned to the rows of boats tied together before him.

"Gyptians!" He called, his voice carrying to the last boat, halting every conversation. His people stood and faced him as he spoke. "Nearly six years ago, our children began disappearing. They were taken by the Magisterium to be the subjects of the cruel experiments of the Church. This child", he indicated Lyra, "made it possible for us to bring them home, and through everything she did, together with this boy, helped to bring down the Magisterium." There were several cheers through the crowd. Lyra blushed.

"But the Magisterium has been restored, and it has a new goal. To kidnap our people, young and old. Those who openly oppose the Magisterium and the Church will be put to work in the lethal cold of the north." There were gasps and shouts of outrage. John Faa put up a hand to silence them. His eyes burned, his voice steady. "It is the recreation of Bolvangar. People from every part of this country have been taken prisoner. So we will travel north, and with the help of Lyra and her allies, we will liberate them!"

Thunderous cheers erupted from the ships. John Faa's face was grim; set. Will could see he was aware of the risks this journey would have for his people. But he could also see that this leader felt it was his duty to release the people who had been abducted, and Will could do nothing but respect him for that.

Lyra's heart thumped hard in her chest as she watched the boats begin to move out of the harbor. She was leaving southwest England for the first time in over four years. She had been in one place for too long and her anticipation made her shiver. They were on their way north.

---

The salty air blew across her face in a welcoming caress. It twisted her hair about her face tickling her nose and cheeks. She smiled absentmindedly. Clothed in a knit vest over a loose shirt and skirt with good, sturdy boots she felt more at ease than she had in a long while. Being at sea with Ma Costa, Farder Coram, and John Faa felt like she had just let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. A restlessness that she had forced down for years came back with a vengeance and made her excited and eager to be on the move.

And Will…a new wave of confusion dampened her anticipation. She knew he still loved her, though he never said and was sometimes cold and distant. But she faced a problem she hadn't really counted on. She knew that after this task was over Will would go back to his world and she would stay in hers and that would be that. And she didn't know if she could lose him again.

A hand lightly touched her shoulder. She turned abruptly to come face to face with Will. He smiled gently and indicated the sea that surrounded them. "Seems like it goes on forever doesn't it?" He said softly. She caught her breath and turned back around to face the expanse of dark blue water. He stood beside her, leaning against the railing.

She closed her eyes and felt the breeze wash over her face. "Like it never ends."

­­**--**

**NOTE: I don't really like the way I've written these last few chapters; I might go back and rewrite them at some point. And I've noticed something about the whole story. I went back and reread most of it, and I noticed that I don't rly have much about daemons. I just didn't add them as full characters. And I'm not sure if I will. I mean the fact that Will's daemon had to stay in his world will play a part but daemons in general won't be big characters. I'll make references every now and then just to keep the idea. But if you don't see any in a chapter just assume that they're there. Because they are…I just didn't write them in . lol**

**REVIEW!!**

**-Bells**

**PS. Was John Faa's speech to cheesy?? I thought it was and I welcome any suggestions on how to improve it…actually I would welcome any suggestions as to how to improve ANYTHING in this story….. XP**


	19. Stealth

**Chapter 19: Stealth**

She stared out at the endless blue of the ocean. It stretched as far as the eye could see. But as all things did, even if it was beyond sight, it would eventually end. She thought this with a mixture of sadness and resolve. As she thought, she heard a voice behind her. It took a minute to hear what it was saying. "Lyra….Lyra?" She was jolted from her reverie by Will's presence behind her. "Lyra? Are you alright?" He laid a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened involuntarily; his hand dropped. Then she turned to him and smiled reassuringly, "Yes, I'm fine." The smile became wistful. "Just thinking."

Silence ensued, as they watched the constant rise and fall of the sea. Lyra felt her head begin to droop, her mind caught in the lazy hypnosis created by the waves. Her eyes slowly began to close…

"Do you think we're going to be able to find anyone else who will be willing to fight the Magisterium?" Will asked suddenly.

Lyra jumped awake, snapping her head back from Will's shoulder, where it had fallen to rest. She considered his question with a still whirling mind. "Well, I suppose," Her brow furrowed. "Oh!" She exclaimed, her face brightening. "Of course! Why didn't I think of it before?"

Will looked at her, puzzled. She smiled brightly; excitedly. She seemed to expect him to guess. He gave her a blank look in response. She sighed; clearly exasperated he didn't share her enthusiasm. "The witches, Will! Serafina Pekkala and Ruta Skadi and them. They'll want to help us. They never liked the Magisterium." Will couldn't help but smile back, though he didn't share Lyra's certainty about whether the witches would help them.

Lyra felt certain that the witches would help. Another idea came to her. "Iorek might want to help!" She cried. "He helped us before."

Will remembered the bear king well. But he didn't think Iorek's loyalties to Lyra would be enough to convince him to risk the lives of his bears in a battle whose outcome was completely uncertain. But Lyra seemed so sure, that Will didn't want to discourage her. Then a thought struck him. "How are we going to get there? These ships all headed for Trollesund. I don't exactly know where that is, but I take it Serafina Pekkala's witch clan isn't next-door."

Lyra's expression dropped. This hadn't occurred to her. The simplest answer was to ask for a small ship to take them inland to Lake Enara. But could she ask even more of John Faa or his Gyptians? She had already asked them to risk their lives; did she have the right to ask for more? She took a breath and plunged. "I'll speak to John Faa."

...

Lyra knocked lightly. Hushed discussions ceased and Farder Coram opened the door. "Lyra, child, I'm not sure -  
"Let her in." Jon Faa's voice came from a table in the center of the cabin. He was bent over a map, flipping a pen back and forth between his fingers. Lyra walked in to see Ma Costa and several other Gyptians whom she didn't know standing around him. John Faa set down the pen and turned to Lyra. "What is it, child?" He asked wearily.

"Well," she hesitated, "you know I wouldn't ask you anything unless it were real important." John Faa looked up. Lyra raised her chin. "But when we dock at Trollesund, Will and I'll need to borrow a ship to sail inland." She said it steadily. The Gyptians began to whisper heatedly to each other. _We can't lose a ship. That's ridiculous. What does she think she's doing? She's only a girl…_

John Faa's face darkened. "Now Lyra, we can't just –

"This isn't on a whim!" Lyra said hotly.  
"Then can I ask why you would ask me to give you one my ships on the brink of battle? We're not four days away!"

Lyra's face paled. "That soon?"

"Yes. I thought you, of all people, would realize –  
The whispers gathered and grew louder and louder

"I've got to talk with Serafina Pekkala!" Lyra said over the din. The whispering hushed.

"The witch?" Someone said.

"Why?" That was Farder Coram.  
"To ask for her help." Lyra took a deep breath.

John Faa's expression became unreadable, as if he were calculating but didn't want anyone to know the answers he was getting. "We've fought these men before. And now we're twice as many as we were then."

Lyra's temper flared. "But we had help from the witches then, too! And now 'those' men are most likely a trained guard. And they've probably got the Tartar's and Skraelings to help them again. They might even have some witch clans on their side, too!" Lyra looked John Faa straight in the face. "You'd be a fool to fight them alone, John Faa. They'd tear you to pieces!"

"She's right John." Farder Coram spoke up. "Maybe we could fight 'em, if they were just men. But if they've got witches, it'd be suicidal to go in there without a clan or two at our backs."

John Faa sat for a few moments more: calculating, thinking. "Alright." He said. Lyra's anger left her a rush, relief taking its place. But her relief was short-lived. "You'll leave as soon as we dock at Trollesund. I'll give you three days. We leave for Svalbard on the fourth." He looked at Lyra. "I'm sorry, but we won't be able to wait for you, if you're late. We can't. There are too many lives at stake."

"I understand." Lyra said. "If we don't get back to Trollesund in time, we'll find our own way." She said this with more certainty then she felt.

"Derrick'll take you then." John Faa pointed to a man at the back of the room. His hawk daemon eyed Lyra curiously. "Three days, Lyra." John Faa said warningly. "Three days, from the moment we're safely docked."

...

As the door shut behind her, and the hushed conversations began again, Lyra leaned against it, breathing slowly. What if John Faa had refused her? Would they have gone on to fight anyway? Or would she just had to have found another way to contact the witches?

A sharp, thin blade pressed itself along her throat. She opened to her mouth to cry out, then thought better of it. "Make a sound, and I'll slit your throat." A quiet voice came from behind her. Without really thinking, Lyra snapped her head back, hopefully into her attacker's face. In the same moment, she yelled, "HELP!" The man was stunned for the one moment the knife needed to slip from his loosened grasp. It clattered to the floor. Lyra fell to her knees to grab it, but the man was faster. He picked it up and swung at her. She ducked and he lunged again. She rolled to one side, awkwardly pushing her feet out to trip him. He stumbled and she scrambled up. She heard pounding footsteps as Will ran towards them. He lunged at the man, knocking him down. Will leaped up as the man swung at him with the knife. Other people began to gather, wondering if they should help. John Faa and the rest burst from the cabin. Lyra grabbed the man's hair and he turned to face her, swinging the blade wildly. Will managed to grab the man by the collar of his shirt and shoved him into the wall, his head banging against the wood with a resounding crack. He crumpled to the ground.

The deck was quiet, save for Will and Lyra's hard breathing. "What is going on?" John Faa's voice cut through the silence like ice. Everyone remained silent. He turned to Will. "Will?"

But Will didn't answer. Lyra had walked over to him, a hand placed on his arm. He stepped half in front of her; defensively, looking at the man who was slowly standing up, clutching the silver knife. The assassin looked around for a split second, sensing his defeat. And with barely a moment's hesitation, he pressed the knifepoint to his heart and thrust. Lyra cried, "No! Don't –"

A thin trickle of blood dripped from the man's slightly parted lips as he crumpled to the floor of the ship. His breath left him. "God forgive me."

**NOTE: review :)**


	20. Enara

**Chapter 20: Enara**

"Three days."

John Faa looked Lyra in the eye. "No more. We can't wait."  
"I know." Lyra's voice was steady.  
The Gyptian king gathered her into a rough hug. "Be safe, child."  
"En't I always?" John Faa gave her a strange look. "I will." She promised.  
Then he eyed Will. "You take care of her y'hear?"  
Will smiled wryly. "That never seems to work."

John Faa chuckled and shook Will's hand. "Then try to keep her from trying anything stupid."  
"I can't promise anything." Lyra swatted at him and he ducked laughing.

After saying good-bye and thanking Farder Coram and Ma Costa, Lyra and Will followed the tall Gyptian man, Derrick, and his sharp-eyed hawk daemon. Pantalaimon, who had been quiet most of the journey, shivered from his place around her neck.  
"Do you think we'll be getting back here in three days, Pan?" Lyra asked.  
"Well, it does seem like something always happens, doesn't it?" he replied.

"I guess we'll have to just wait and see."

...

Lyra's memory of Serafina Pekkala was as clear as day. She remembered the ageless beauty and effortless grace. Her kind face and strong, powerful voice. Thoughts of how to convince her to fight with them flew through her mind; being discarded as fast as thought of.

She sat in her small cabin, holding the Alethiometer gently in her hands. The books of readings lay open and haphazard on the small bed where Lyra sat as she tried to figure out what they should do. Pan lay curled next to her arm, his small head in a book, trying to decide which meaning was being used.

Suddenly, Lyra threw down the Alethiometer, exasperated. "What was I thinking, Pan?" She stood. "I can't expect Serafina Pekkala and her whole clan to just up and leave because I asked them to."

"They hate the Magisterium as much as we do. I don't think they'd hesitate to fight them."  
"But we're basically asking them to risk their lives for us. We don't even know what we'll be fighting! I mean, it'll definitely be the Tartars and the Skraelings, maybe some Muscovites. And if Metatron decides to help them, there could be angels, or worse, demons." She whirled as she heard a knock at her door. "What?"

"Lyra?" It was Will. He slowly opened the door. Pan scurried away, out of sight, leaving them alone.  
Lyra slumped, suddenly very tired. Will walked over and wrapped his arms around her. She sank against him gratefully. "What's the matter?" He asked.

She sighed. "It just seems I rushed into this too fast, without really thinking things through." She looked up at him. "The plan right now is just to make it up as we go along." She dropped her head to his chest. "But that doesn't really seem like a very good plan."

"No, it doesn't." He said, but he smiled slightly. Lyra suspected that he was just as anxious as she was. She closed her eyes. His voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke. "Do you remember when I rescued you from Mrs. Coulter? And you said we had to go to the world of the dead to rescue your friend, Roger?" Lyra nodded. "The first thing I thought was, _she's got to be joking_. But you weren't and we went right to the gates without any sort of plan." They both shivered at the memory of crossing the river. "But we got out alright, and freed all those ghosts." Lyra smiled, knowing what he was saying. "So don't worry. We'll figure it out." He smiled back. "Even if we have to do it along the way."

He'd always been the sensible one; less prone to coming up with impractical, fantastical schemes. He always seemed to make her jumbled ideas look like some sort of strategy. She reached up. Her lips brushed his cheek ever so slightly. "Thank you." She whispered.

Will stood still, almost shocked by the touch. He wasn't really sure how to react. Lyra's head still tilted up as she looked at his face. Hers was unreadable; her eyes masking whatever emotions were whirling around inside her head. As they stood, not speaking, what had surely been meant as a friendly gesture, suddenly became something very different.

Not entirely sure what made her do it, Lyra reached up again, but this time she pressed her lips softly to his mouth. She felt him go rigid, unsure. She kissed him with all the pent up emotions she'd had for the four years they'd been apart. Her resentment, her anger, her loneliness, her love. She felt a tear on her cheek but didn't move to wipe it away. Instead she brought her hands up, sliding them over his shoulders and twining them in his hair, pulling him closer.

Will held her like a precious thing; an imagined thing. He held her as if she would disappear if he held on too tightly. He felt her hands move up and tangle in his hair. He was pulled forward and they stumbled, landing on the small bed. As he kissed her, he felt something inside him change. He felt that hard shell he'd worked so hard to build crack. He felt all the feelings he'd locked there escape and disperse in the air around them.

Lyra let go with a gasp. They both were breathing heavily. She looked up. Above her, his face was open; open as she had never seen it. For the first time, she could make out his emotions as they played across his face: confusion, resentment, anger, love. She lifted herself up to place one last kiss on his lips. He lay beside her then, and they rested in each others' arms.

...

It had been roughly a day before they reached the point where the boat could go no further. Though Gyptian boats were built to navigate the narrow canals of Oxford as well as the open seas, there were some rivers they could not traverse.

Lyra and Will packed only necessary things into one travel sack. There was a small stream that flowed down from Lake Enara. It would be about a half-day's walk up stream to reach the lake.  
"Samuel'll take you as far as the lake. He won't go near the witches' camp, though. Says his ma had sayins about Witches." Derrick told Will and Lyra. "But he'll lead you there, no worry."

And so, they set off. It was a steep climb; rocky and cold. The stream took a shockingly vertical path, cutting through two solid walls of rock on either side. The rocks were sharp in some places and treacherously slick in others, and after only a couple of hours, Lyra's feet began to drag and her head grew heavy. Reminded of their trek through the World of the Dead, she started to reminisce about the times before she and Will had been separated. Her mind relived their days in the world of the Mulefa, after they had freed the ghosts: the glade in the woods, the red fruit, their first awkward kisses.

She lifted her foot and stepped up onto a black rock. With a gasp her foot slipped from beneath her and she tumbled backward. She drew breath the scream but no sound came. Will, unable to react fast enough, clumsily caught her by the arm and grabbed hold of a tree to keep from following her. He hissed as the muscles in his arms were pulled beyond their limits. She was slipping from his grasp and his own grip on the tree branch was weakening much too fast. A cold sweat broke out over Will's body. Desperate, he yelled, "Samuel!" But the guide was already too far up ahead of to be of any help. Will's fingers slipped, and all he could think was, _Not now, not now_…His hand grasped the air.

Instead of the weightless, hopeless feel of falling he expected, Will was shoved roughly forward so that his face collided with the tree. As he caught his balance he looked down to see Lyra clinging to the rock face on their left, hanging onto an outcropping. Her other arm was stretched out towards him, having just kept him from plummeting down they way they'd come.  
After she found her footing, Lyra warily watched the ground, looking for the tell-tale glassiness that revealed itself seconds before she trod on it.

They took breaks every now and then, too tired to speak. After a few minutes and a few drinks from their water bottle (and consulting of a map in Samuel's case), they pulled their gloves back on and continued on their way. A few hours later, Samuel spoke. "We're almost there, I think. Only about ten more minutes and –

He was cut off. Lyra looked up. A shadowy figure had wrenched one arm behind his back and a knife was at his throat. Lyra felt an odd tingling, like walking through a thin curtain, and before she knew it her arm had been jerked behind her and she felt the thin line of a blade hovering just above her breastbone. Lyra looked back to see Will in a similar predicament.

"Who are you?" The witch holding Lyra said, twisting her arm.

Lyra buckled, gasping. "My name is Lyra Silvertongue." The witch's breath hissed at the name. "And he's Will Parry. We are here to see Serafina Pekkala. Please tell her we're here." The witch loosened her grasp.

"And the other?"

"He's just our guide. Let him go."

"How do we know she tells the truth, Danyca?" The witch holding Samuel asked.

Danyca looked at Will. "Show me your left hand."

The witch holding him freed one hand and he held it up, slowly. The emptiness where the last two fingers should have been gaped wide. Danyca nodded. "Release them." She addressed the witch who held Samuel. "Fly back and let them know who we have."

Will walked up to where Lyra stood, rubbing her arm. She turned to Samuel. "Go back and tell Derrick that if we're not back by this time tomorrow, he's to go on to Trollesund without us. The witches will take us there if they have to." She sounded surer of this then she felt at the moment. She still didn't really know what she could ask of Serafina Pekkala. Samuel turned and practically ran back the way they'd come. As for Lyra and Will, they followed the witch Danyca to Lake Enara.

...

"Welcome, Lyra."

Lyra ran into the arms of a laughing Serafina Pekkala. "Oh, Serafina, I've missed you." Lyra hugged the witch queen fiercely. She was tall, graceful, and regal. Her long golden hair came nearly to her waist and rippled like sunlight as she moved. A crown of red flowers rested atop her head. She was beautiful and ageless as ever.

"I've missed you as well, child." She pulled away to look at Will. "It is also good to see you, Will Parry." She held out her left hand, palm up. It took him a moment to realize what she wanted. Then he laid his left hand in hers. It was ugly and disfigured against the smooth white witch's hand. "I see these wounds have healed." She eyed them curiously. "That is good." He pulled his hand back, slightly uncomfortable.

She smiled and waved them closer. "Come, you must be tired from your journey." She pointed to a pair of witches who had been watching the exchange curiously from the side. They strolled into the forest, gliding like wisps of smoke, apparently already aware of their orders.

Serafina looked back to Will and Lyra. Her eyes danced as she called out to the remaining witches. "We shall celebrate the arrival of Lyra Silvertongue and Will Parry, and welcome them to our clan's fire. For they are valued friends to the witches of Lake Enara."

...

**Note: So I'm sorta back to writing this story. I have all the chapters outlined but an outline and a finished chapter are two entirely different things. I'll try to get the second part of this section out soon.**

**PS. Review!**


	21. AUTHOR NOTE

AUTHOR NOTE! XD

Hey everybody! Just wanted to say how sorry I am that I haven't been updating. I've just been so busy and have had a KILLER case of writer's block. But I just wanted to let you all know that I'll be taking the story down for a while, while I COMPLETELY revise it! I'm already through like chapter 3-4 so it'll take a while. So those of you that want to reread it can start at the beginning (there will be some additions/plot changes) and those of you that don't can just pick it where I left off the first time. But I think that if I take it down and you have it on story alert you won't know when I post it again. So you might have to put me on author alert if you want to know when I re-post the first chapter.

Oh and anyone who'd like to be a beta reader for this story please let me know! I think peer review is the best way to revise a story.

I'm also thinking of re-posting it under a new title. Any ideas? If I can't think of one I'll just re-post it under the same name but I think something new would be nice…

Some ideas so far:

Days of Magic, Nights of War (;P)  
Worlds Asunder  
(Your idea goes here)

Cheers!  
-Mel ;)

PS. Be warned - I might not re-post the story for a while, mainly because I'd like to get the whole thing written before I start posting it, so we don't have such a huge hiatus in between chapters like this time… So if all goes well, once I start posting, it should be once week :D


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